357 


MARRIED? 


BOOKS  BY 
MARJORIE  BENTON  COOKE 

BAMBI 

CINDERELLA  JANE 

DB.  DAVID 

MABRIED  ? 

THE  CLUTCH  OF  CIRCUMSTANCE 

THE  CRICKET 

THE  DUAL  ALLIANCE 

THE  GIRL  WHO  LIVED  IN  THE  WOODS 

THE  THRESHOLD 


"  '  Marcia! '  he  exclaimed,  '  Marcia! 


MARRIED? 


BY 
MARJORIE  BENTON  COOKE 


FRONTISPIECE 

BY 
REGINALD    F.    BOLLES 


GARDEN   CITY,  N.  Y.,   AND   TORONTO 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE   &   COMPANY 
1921 


COPYRIGHT,  1921,  BY 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

ALL  EIGHTS  RESERVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF  TRANSLATION 
INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES,  INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 

COPYRIGHT,  IQ20,  IQ2I.  BV  THE  CBOWELL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


MARRIED? 


2134741 


MARRIED? 

CHAPTER  I 

MISS  LIVINGSTON   stepped   into   the 
foyer  of  the  Toy  Theatre.     A  low  light 
burned  there,  and  Miss  Paul  was  talk- 
ing earnestly  with  a  girl  in  the  box  office.     She 
looked  up  as  the  door  closed  and  smiled. 
"Good  evening,  Marcia,"  she  said. 
"Evening,  Mary  Jane.     Is  the  rehearsal  on?" 
"Yes — Sawyer  has  just  called  the  first  act." 
Miss  Livingston  went  on  into  the  darkened 
body  of  the  house.     A  little  nervous  man  paced 
up  and  down  the  aisle,  listening  to  the  actors 
who   read   their  parts   from   script.     He   gave 
Miss    Livingston    a    curt    good    evening.     She 
scarcely    responded,    and    seated    herself    well 
away  from  him,  toward  the  front,  nodding  to 
the  actors  as  she  sat  down. 

The  play  was  one  of  Dunsany's  and  in  the 
first  stages  of  rehearsal.  The  director  halted 
them  every  few  lines,  suggesting  different  in- 

i 


%  MARRIED? 

flection,  another  reading,  or  a  different  quality 
of  voice.  Miss  Livingston  bore  it  patiently 
for  about  half  an  hour,  then  she  called  Mr. 
Sawyer  to  her. 

"  Why  do  you  bother  with  the  way  they  inflect 
their  lines,  when  it's  obvious  that  they  haven't 
got  the  idea  of  the  play?"  she  demanded. 

He  sighed  impatiently. 

"We'll  put  the  colour  in  later.  We  have  to 
build  the  framework  first,"  he  answered. 

"I  consider  that  an  old-fashioned  and  stupid 
way  to  go  about  it,"  she  objected.  "This  is  a 
study  in  terror.  Unless  every  move  and  every 
word  contributes  to  the  expression  of  terror,  the 
thing's  a  failure." 

"  Miss  Livingston,  I  have  been  on  the  stage  for 
twenty  years." 

"  Mr.  Sawyer,  that  is  the  one  and  only  thing  I 
have  against  you !  You  belong  to  the  old  school 
which  passed  around  parts  on  a  typewritten  slip 
and  let  the  actors  piece  the  story  together  at 
rehearsal  as  you  do  a  picture  puzzle.  It  utterly 
discounted  any  brain  on  the  part  of  the  actor." 

"If  you  don't  like  the  way  I  rehearse- "  he 

began. 

"I  don't!  That's  what  I'm  telling  you.  Get 
the  company  to  understand  the  spirit  of  this 


MARRIED?  3 

play,  and  your  inflections  will  take  care  of  them- 
selves." 

"Of  course,  Miss  Livingston,  this  is  your 
theatre ' 

"It  isn't  because  it's  my  theatre  that  I  want 
you  to  use  some  common  sense,"  she  answered 
hotly. 

Miss  Paul  slipped  into  the  seat  behind  them. 

"How  is  it  going?"  she  asked  diplomatically. 

"Not  at  all,  according  to  Miss  Livingston," 
he  said  brusquely. 

"I  merely  suggest  that  he  is  rehearsing  from 
the  wrong  angle 

"I  will  gladly  hand  the  rehearsal  over  to  you, 
Miss  Livingston 

"All  right,"  she  said,  rose,  and  walked  down 
the  aisle  to  the  stage. 

The  actors,  sitting  and  standing  about,  turned 
at  the  sound  of  her  voice. 

"Friends,  Mr.  Sawyer  and  I  disagree  about  the 
rehearsal  of  this  play  and  he  has  most  generously 
allowed  me  to  try  the  act  my  way.  I'm  coming 
up " 

She  disappeared  for  a  second  and  then  came 
down  stage  among  them. 

"Has  anybody  read  you  the  play  aloud?" 

"No." 


4  MARRIED? 

"Well,  sit  down.  I  shall  read  my  interpreta- 
tion of  the  first  act,  and  then  we'll  discuss  it." 

The  company  seated  itself  with  a  covert  smile 
here  and  there.  This  eccentric  lady  entertained 
them  highly  with  her  revolutionary  idea  about 
the  theatre. 

Marcia  Livingston  began  to  read.  The  key 
in  which  she  pitched  her  voice,  the  hush  with 
which  she  impregnated  the  lines,  the  sense  of 
impending  doom  which  she  built  with  every 
speech,  rolled  up  and  up,  until  her  audience 
scarcely  breathed;  they  dared  not  look  out 
into  the  black  theatre  which  held  some  mon- 
strous thing.  As  she  laid  the  last  word  upon 
the  climax,  somebody  said:  "Good  Lord"  so 
devoutly  that  the  spell  was  broken  and  they  all 
laughed,  shivering  slightly  at  the  sound. 

"My  contention  is  that  until  everybody  in 
the  cast  realizes  that  he  must  contribute  to  the 
terror  of  the  audience,  he's  just  wasting  time. 
Now — does  everyone  disagree  with  my  inter- 
pretation?" 

"Don't  you  think  Thibour  might  be  played  a 
little  more  as  comedy  relief?"  asked  the  gentle- 
man cast  for  Thibour. 

"I  do  not.  There  mustn't  be  any  relief— 
you  must  pile  it  up  to  the  bursting  point,  7 


MARRIED?  5 

think.      But  maybe  I'm  wrong.      We'll  try  it 
your  way,  and  all  decide  it  together.     Now— 
let's  begin.     Never  mind  your  lines — just  try 
to  give  Mr.  Sawyer  and  Miss   Paul   and  the 
others  out  there  cold  shivers  down  the  spine!" 

They  began  again  and  in  a  crude  way  the 
play  began  to  take  shape  and  colour.  One  or 
two  actors  were  so  carried  away  that  good, 
spontaneous  business  resulted,  which  Marcia 
seized  and  made  permanent.  She  interrupted 
only  once  for  lines — that  was  when  "Thibour" 
repeatedly  misquoted  his  lines. 

"It's  so  awkward  for  me  to  say  it  that  way, 
Miss  Livingston.  Can't  I  change  it  so  it  seems 
natural?" 

"You  may  not!  You  change  one  word  and 
I'll  invent  a  new  and  terrible  punishment. 
You've  got  no  more  right  to  change  Dunsany's 
words  than  you  have  to  take  my  pocketbook!" 
she  said,  decidedly.  They  all  laughed  at  that, 
and  the  rehearsal  proceeded. 

At  eleven  o'clock  she  called  an  adjourn- 
ment, and  went  out  in  front  where  Miss  Paul 
and  Mr.  Sawyer  were  having  a  conversation. 

"Well,  Mr.  Sawyer,  did  I  get  results,  or 
not?" 

"You  got  an  effect,  certainly,  for  to-night. 


6  MARRIED? 

By  the  time  they've  rehearsed  it  for  two  or  three 
weeks,  their  'atmosphere  of  terror,'  as  you  call 
it,  will  be  perfectly  mechanical — it  will  be  as 
stale  as  old  bread." 

"I'm  willing  to  stake  anything  on  it  that  my 
way  is  right." 

"I'll  stake  my  job  that  it's  wrong!" 

"All  right.  Miss  Paul  will  act  as  witness 
and  hold  the  stakes,"  smiled  Marcia. 

"It  will  be  necessary,  of  course,  for  you  to 
conduct  all  the  rehearsals  in  the  experiment," 
he  reminded  her. 

"Oh — I  can't  do  that!"  she  objected. 

"Then  that  settles  it,  so  far  as  I'm  concerned. 
If  I'm  to  be  the  stage  manager  of  the  company, 
I  must  rehearse  my  own  way " 

;<You  mean  you  won't  go  ahead  on  this  idea 
I've  blocked  out?" 

"It's  not  my  way "  he  evaded. 

"Oh,  very  well.  I'll  do  it  myself,  then.  I 
shall  expect  you  to  be  present  at  all  rehearsals, 
just  as  though  you  were  conducting  them." 

"Very  well,"  he  said  curtly. 

"You  see  I  make  the  punishment  fit  the 
crime,  Mr.  Sawyer." 

"I  believe  death  is  the  usual  penalty  for  lese- 
majeste"  was  his  reply. 


MARRIED?  7 

She  laughed,  said  good-night,  and  led  Mary 
Jane  Paul  up  the  aisle  with  her. 

"How  that  man  does  hate  me!  It's  quite 
refreshing,"  she  remarked. 

"After  all,  you  do  hire  him  to  stage  manage 
the  company,  don't  you?"  asked  Miss  Paul. 

"I  do — and  he  does  it  stupidly.  I  show 
him  that  he's  wrong " 

"You  haven't  shown  him  yet "  inter- 
rupted Miss  Paul. 

"But  I  intend  to." 

Miss  Paul  made  no  comment. 

"I  take  it  that  you  disapprove  of  my  taking 
over  the  rehearsal,"  continued  Marcia. 

"  It's  your  own  business,  of  course.  My  opin- 
ion is  that  if  you  engage  a  man  to  do  a  certain 
thing  and  you  dislike  the  way  he  does  it,  the 
proper  sequel  is  to  discharge  him." 

"I  can't  till  I  show  him  he's  wrong." 

"Why  can't  you?" 

"He'll  say  it  was  just  because  it  was  my 
theatre  that  I  had  to  have  my  way." 

"But  you  worse  than  discharged  him,  you 
belittled  his  authority  before  the  company  he  is 
supposed  to  direct." 

"I'll  make  him  handsome  amends." 

Miss  Paul  shook  her  head. 


8  MARRIED? 

"You're  generous,  Marcia,  always,  but  you're 
not  just." 

"Good  heavens,  Mary  Jane,  what  is  this 
tempest  in  a  teapot?"  demanded  Marcia. 

Miss  Paul  drew  her  into  her  office  and  closed 
the  door. 

"  It  isn't  such  a  trifle  as  you  think,  Marcia.  This 
is  the  third  stage  manager  we've  had  this  season." 

"I  know  it — marvellous  what  fools  they've  all 
been!" 

"Granted.  But  if  you  want  to  do  the  things 
you  plan  in  this  theatre,  then  you've  got  to  face 
one  fact.  Either  you  must  delegate  the  au- 
thority over  productions  to  a  director  and  stage 
manager,  or  you  must  make  this  theatre  your 
business  and  do  the  directing  yourself." 

"I  can't  give  all  my  time  to  it,  Mary  Jane, 
you  know  that." 

"Well — I've  mentioned  what  the  alternative 
seems  to  be,  from  my  point  of  view." 

"  But  you're  practically  telling  me  to  keep  out 
of  my  own  theatre!" 

Mary  Jane  Paul  looked  her  friend  and  her  em- 
ployer straight  in  the  eye. 

"What  I  am  trying  to  tell  you,  Marcia,  is 
this:  This  little  theatre  is  a  plaything  to  you — 
a  toy,  you  play  with  it  for  a  while  and  then  you 


MARRIED?  9 

tire  of  it  and  go  off  to  Europe.  We  get  it  to 
humming  along  quite  well,  when  you  come  back, 
and  like  the  greedy  child  in  the  fairy  book,  you 
snatch  your  toy  back— 

"Mary  Jane  Paul!  I'm  not  like  that!" 
Marcia  burst  out. 

"I'm  sorry  to  be  disagreeable,  because  I'm  so 
fond  of  you,  Marcia.  I'm  not  saying  there  are 
not  plenty  of  reasons  why  you  are  like  this. 
You're  too  rich  and  too  pretty  and  too  spoiled— 
but  the  fact  is  you  cannot  endure  opposition, 
and  you  have  to  be  boss." 

"I  seem  to  be  getting  a  considerable  dose  of 
opposition  to-night.  You've  cast  yourself  for 
Dutch  Uncle  apparently!"  interposed  Marcia, 
holding  on  to  her  temper  with  difficulty. 

"I'm  sorry  to  be  nasty  to  an  old  friend,  Mar- 
cia, and  if  you  think  I've  said  too  much,  I'll 
hand  in  my  resignation." 

"Rubbish,  Mary  Jane — don't  be  a  goose!" 

"  I  think  you've  got  a  good  idea,  a  wonderful 
plant  in  the  theatre,  and  a  chance  to  do  a  valu- 
able and  constructive  thing.  I  want  to  help 
with  it.  But  I  know  we  cannot  accomplish 
anything  the  way  we're  doing  now." 

"You  think  I'm  the  whole  trouble,"  said 
Marcia. 


10  MARRIED? 

"I  think  you're  the  main  trouble.  Sawyer 
may  not  be  the  perfect  director,  but  he  gave  an 
excellent  production  of  The  Cliff  Dwellers,  and 
if  he's  left  alone,  he  may  work  out  very  well. 
If  you  think  not,  let's  find  someone  else,  but  let's 
give  full  power  to  the  man  we  appoint." 

"I'd  rather  give  up  the  theatre!  What  fun 
is  it  for  me  to  run  it,  if  I'm  to  have  no  say  about 
how  things  are  done  in  it?"  said  Marcia  hotly. 

"I  didn't  suggest  that.  Certainly  the  di- 
rector ought  to  carry  out  your  ideas.  My 
objection  is  to  an  autocratic  authority  which 
can  interfere  at  any  moment." 

"You  think  the  thing's  a  failure?" 

"Far  from  it.  It's  an  experiment  in  the  first 
stages,  of  course.  Why  don't  you  get  hold  of 
Sawyer  and  make  him  like  you " 

"I  don't  care  whether  he  likes  me  or  not." 

"How  about  asking  young  Brooks  to  direct 
the  next  production?  He's  the  most  intelligent 
actor  in  the  company." 

"I'll  think  about  it." 

"Do.  It's  nearly  midnight  now,  my  dear," 
Mary  Jane  said  quietly. 

Marcia  rose. 

"I  ought  to  be  raging  mad  at  you  and  I 
think  I  am!" 


MARRIED?  11 

"Why  should  you  be  raging  mad  at  the  frank 
opinion  of  a  good  friend  who  loves  you?"  said 
the  other  woman  bluntly. 

"It  takes  a  very  good  friend  to  be  so  dis- 
agreeable!" 

Mary  Jane  Paul  laid  her  hand  on  Marcia's 
shoulder.  "You  don't  think  that,  really,  Marcia  ?' ' 

"No — I  suppose  not,"  admitted  Marcia.  "I 
have  had  a  perfectly  horrid  evening  and  I  shall 
now  go  home  and  hate  myself." 

"You'll  make  me  sorry  I  spoke." 

"You  needn't  be.  I  suppose  I  hear  the  truth 
seldom  enough,  considering  my  needs!" 

Mary  Jane  laughed. 

"You're  a  good  sort,  Marcia,"  she  said.  "See 
you  to-morrow?" 

"Certainly.  I  called  rehearsal  at  ten.  I've 
got  to  work  at  the  galley  now  to  prove  that  I'm 
right.  Extraordinary  how  many  people  in  this 
world  are  all  wrong " 

"But  how  do  you  prove  they  are  wrong, 
Marcia?"  Mary  Jane  Paul  inquired. 

"  I  don't  need  to  prove  it.  I  know  it.  If  they 
disagree  with  me,  they're  wrong,"  was  Marcia's 
parting  remark. 

Mary  Jane's  laugh  at  her  childishness  turned 
into  a  sigh  and  a  headshake. 


CHAPTER  II 

ONE  of  the  many  contributors  to  the 
Livingston  estate  was  a  property  known 
as  the  Santa  Rosa  Ranch.  Thousands 
of  acres  of  it  spread  over  the  mountains  and 
through  the  fertile  valleys,  stretching  almost 
to  the  imaginary  line  which  divides  California 
from  its  lower  peninsula. 

It  was  Marcia  Livingston's  grandfather, 
Henry  Livingston,  the  sturdy  pioneer,  who  had 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  family  wealth.  He 
had  bought  up  these  many  acres  from  the  shift- 
less descendants  of  the  old  Spanish  grandees, 
who  once  rode  this  country  in  gay  cavalcade, 
spending  their  days  in  hunting,  their  nights  in 
gambling  and  the  wassail  bowl.  They  had 
their  lands  by  grants  from  the  crown  of  Spain, 
and  in  their  day  they  lived  royally  on  the  fat  of 
the  rich  land. 

The  story  ran  that  Henry  Livingston  was  a 
good  hater,  and  that  he  possessed  one  enemy 
worthy  of  his  metal.  This  man  was  named 
Parnell  Shawn,  and  he,  too,  was  concerned  with 

12 


MARRIED?  13 

laying  up  for  himself  "treasures, upon  earth." 
He  was  a  brilliant  Irishman,  as  witty  as  Henry 
Livingston  was  dour.  The  two  men  had  come 
to  the  grappling  point  when  Shawn  was  made 
president  of  the  Great  Western  Railroad,  in  the 
face  of  Livingston's  bitter  opposition.  The  latter 
was  a  director  in  the  road  and  a  large  stock- 
holder. Upon  Shawn's  election  Livingston  re- 
signed and  sold  his  holdings.  He  immediately 
began  to  negotiate  for  great  tracts  in  the  Car- 
mencita  valley,  where  he  intended  to  grow 
eucalyptus  trees  for  railroad  ties,  and  in  time, 
corner  the  market  and  hold  up  the  plans  of  the 
Great  Western  to  triple  its  trackage. 

By  some  turn  of  luck  Shawn  heard  of  Liv- 
ingston's plan.  He,  too,  began  negotiations 
with  the  impoverished  farmers  in  the  valley. 
But  Livingston  had  them  tied  up,  so  to  speak. 
He  had  bought  all  the  country  for  miles,  and  for 
little  more  than  the  proverbial  song.  His 
holdings  were  about  twelve  thousand  acres,  but 
he  met  one  obstacle  which  he  could  not  sweep 
aside.  In  the  very  heart  of  the  Santa  Rosa 
Ranch  there  was  an  estate  belonging  to  a  Span- 
iard, Don  Padrasso,  whose  father  had  the  orig- 
inal grant.  It  consisted  of  five  thousand  acres 
of  fertile  land,  much  of  it  in  thriving  eucalyptus 


14  MARRIED? 

forests.  This  old  man  and  his  granddaughter 
lived  alone  with  a  servant  on  this  place.  He 
refused  absolutely  to  sell.  He  said  that  his 
granddaughter  loved  the  place  and  it  must 
descend  to  her.  To  all  offers  he  was  adamant. 

Shawn  discovered  this  situation  and  he  entered 
into  negotiation  with  old  Padrasso.  He  outbid 
Livingston,  and  Livingston  outbid  Shawn,  until 
a  veritable  fortune  was  offered  the  Spaniard,  but 
he  still  refused.  When  the  girl  was  twenty,  old 
Padrasso  died,  and  the  bidding  began  again, 
but  the  girl  was  as  obstinate  as  her  grandfather, 
and  continued  to  live  in  lonely  grandeur  upon 
her  ancestral  acres. 

In  due  course  of  time  Livingston  and  Shawn 
were  gathered  to  their  fathers.  But  the  fight 
between  the  Great  Western  and  the  Livingstons 
to  possess  the  Padrasso  Ranch,  the  fertile  heart  of 
Santa  Rosa,  descended  to  the  next  generation. 
Henry  Livingston  had  established  the  beginning 
of  a  great  fortune.  His  son  was  conservative,  a 
careful  investor,  in  whose  care  the  money 
doubled.  He  handed  on  to  his  daughter  Marcia 
a  big  inheritance.  In  his  time  it  was  that 
Senorita  Padrasso  was  persuaded  to  rent  her  land 
to  the  Livingstons  for  cultivation,  at  a  big  rental, 
which  kept  her  in  luxury. 


MARRIED?  15 

Parnell  Shawn  left  a  comfortable  estate  to  his 
son,  who  inherited  all  of  his  father's  wit  and 
charm,  but  not  a  trace  of  his  ability.  He  spent 
his  last  farthing  before  he  died,  donating  to  his 
son,  Dennis,  a  frail  constitution  as  his  only 
inheritance.  Dennis's  mother,  at  the  urgency  of 
her  doctor,  brought  the  boy  into  Arizona,  where 
she  opened  a  boarding  house,  and  by  dint  of 
hard  labour,  managed  a  living  for  them.  She 
hated  her  life,  but  yet  she  was  content  because 
she  saw  Dennis  growing  stronger  with  each  year. 

She  died  when  the  boy  was  fifteen,  leaving  him 
her  scant  savings.  Her  death  left  him  deso- 
late. She  had  been  his  idol.  His  whole  future 
had  been  built  upon  the  hope  of  what  he  was  to 
do  for  her,  to  make  up  for  the  hard  years. 

He  left  Arizona  and  drifted  to  California. 
There  followed  the  ten  wander-years,  in  which 
he  travelled  through  the  great  Northwest, 
acting  now  as  ranchman,  now  as  clerk.  It  was 
life  in  the  open  that  interested  him.  Cities  he 
found  stifling.  He  liked  men  and  animals, 
but  women  he  shunned. 

It  is  not  too  surprising,  since  chance  weaves 
such  strange  patterns,  that  young  Shawn  was 
foreman  on  a  ranch  in  California  when  Judge 
Horace  Tracey,  one  of  the  executors  of  the 


16  MARRIED? 

Livingston  estate,  came  to  visit  an  old  friend, 
the  owner  of  this  ranch.  He  was  received  by 
Shawn,  in  the  enforced  absence  of  his  host  and 
in  two  days  of  constant  association  with  him, 
was  greatly  attracted  by  the  Irishman.  He 
discovered  his  relation  to  old  Parnell  Shawn, 
who  had  figured  so  largely  in  the  history  of  the 
Livingston  family. 

So  later,  when  the  opportunity  arrived,  he 
offered  Dennis  an  assistant  foremanship  on 
Santa  Rosa,  and  in  five  years  he  became  super- 
intendent and  manager  there,  as  well  as  the 
trusted  friend  of  Judge  Tracey. 

To  some  people  Dennis  Shawn's  life  on  Santa 
Rosa  would  have  seemed  dull.  But  to  him 
it  was  satisfactory  in  every  respect.  The  old 
Spanish  adobe  house  he  occupied  with  his  as- 
sistants crowned  a  high  hill.  On  every  side  the 
mountains  folded  them  in.  Of  a  clear  sunny 
morning  you  could  see  to  the  ends  of  the  world, 
and  at  night  the  stars  were  so  near  that  an  out- 
stretched hand  could  pluck  one  from  the  sky. 

The  house  was  hundreds  of  years  old,  with  walls 
seven  feet  thick.  It  was  built  around  a  patio, 
where  grapevines  as  thick  as  a  man's  arm  trel- 
lised  the  walls.  The  single  story  contained  liv- 
ing room  and  bedrooms  in  one  wing,  dining  room 


MARRIED?  17 

and  kitchen  in  another,  all  opening  on  to  the 
patio.  Shawn  had  planted  gardens  in  front  of 
the  house  which  flourished  the  year  round.  He 
tended  them  himself  and  was  very  proud  of 
them. 

His  household  consisted  of  "Chuck"  English,  a 
young  college  boy,  exiled  by  an  irritated  father 
in  the  hope  that  the  West  would  make  a  man  of 
him.  English,  senior,  was  a  friend  of  Judge 
Tracey,  and  it  was  through  his  intercession 
that  Dennis  had  taken  the  boy  on  as  assistant. 
There  was  Harvey  Williams,  accountant  and 
secretary,  a  silent,  dignified  young  man,  who 
lived  with  the  other  two.  Then  there  was 
Wong,  the  Chinese  cook. 

Below  and  behind  the  house  were  the  quar- 
ters where  the  Slavs  and  Poles  and  Italians  and 
Frenchmen  lived  who  worked  on  the  ranch. 
Their  foreman  lived  in  a  cottage  near  the  men. 

The  Santa  Rosa  now  provided  the  great  trans- 
continental railroads  with  practically  all  their 
railroad  ties.  There  were  huge  sawmills  and  a 
settlement  of  mill  workers  in  a  distant  part  of 
the  ranch,  and  a  railroad  carried  the  ties  to  the 
main  branch. 

In  the  early  morning  Shawn  and  his  associ- 
ates ate  their  breakfast  in  the  patio — and  a 


18  MARRIED? 

hearty  workingman's  breakfast  it  was  that 
Wong  served  them.  Then  he  dictated  letters 
to  Williams  for  an  hour,  planned  Chuck's  job 
for  the  day,  and  by  eight  or  half  after  he  was 
on  his  horse,  galloping  off  into  the  freshness  of 
the  sweet-smelling  morning.  He  rode  from 
morning  until  night,  messing  with  the  men  at 
noon,  wherever  he  happened  to  be.  He  was 
very  popular  with  the  men  of  the  many  races 
he  employed,  and  he  had  very  little  trouble  with 
them.  They  were  too  far  from  the  nearest  town 
to  get  off  for  a  Saturday  night  drunk,  and  Shawn 
saw  to  it  that  the  company  store  provided  only 
enough  drink  to  keep  them  happy.  So  as  an 
international  experiment  it  worked  out  pretty 
well. 

In  the  late  sunset  Shawn  rode  back  to  his 
house.  An  hour  in  the  garden,  a  swim  in  the 
pool  they  had  made  with  the  aid  of  a  captured 
mountain  brook,  fresh  white  clothes,  a  cocktail 
from  the  expert  hands  of  Chuck,  a  sumptuous 
dinner  served  by  Wong,  a  pipe,  the  cool,  silent, 
mysterious  night,  with  the  men  singing  down 
in  "quarters"  or  Chuck  twanging  a  guitar  and 
shouting  sentimental  ballads,  then  sleep,  dream- 
less and  deep.  Such  were  the  days  of  Dennis 
Shawn. 


MARRIED?  19 

He  found  entire  satisfaction  in  Chuck  and 
Williams.  They  were  unlike  as  any  two  men 
could  be — the  boy  noisy,  happy,  full  of  laughter, 
the  older  man  silent,  a  little  grim,  perhaps.  He 
laughed  at  Chuck's  antics  as  Dennis  did,  but  he 
was  a  man  who  preferred  books  to  people.  He 
never  spoke  of  his  past,  he  spent  most  of  his 
salary  for  books,  which  were  sent  him  from  Los 
Angeles,  and  in  his  silent  way  he  loved  Dennis. 
He  occasionally  persuaded  him  to  read  a  book, 
and  then  they  discussed  it  for  hours 

Dennis  found  him  bitter  about  women.  He 
suspected  a  tragedy  in  his  past,  but  Williams 
made  no  confession.  They  were  talking  about 
Weininger's  "Sex  and  Character"  one  night, 
as  they  smoked  in  front  of  the  house. 

"He  has  it  in  for  women,  hasn't  he?"  said 
Dennis. 

"I  thought  it  was  a  fair  estimate,"  replied 
Williams. 

"Oh,  come  now — all  women  aren't  the  brain- 
less fools  he  makes  of  them." 

"Have  you  had  much  experience  with  women, 
Dennis?" 

"  No — not  much.     I  don't  like  them." 

"Wise  man — keep  away." 

"I  don't  understand  them — much." 


20  MARRIED? 

"Men  don't— usually." 

"I  never  felt  the  need  of  women  in  my  life.  I 
suppose  it's  no  credit  to  me  I've  kept  clear  of 
them." 

"Be  thankful  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

"What  are  you  two  chinning  about?"  de- 
manded Chuck,  appearing  from  the  house. 

Dennis  laughed. 

"Your  specialty — women!" 

"Gosh,  I  wish  we  had  some  of  'em  here!  It's 
the  only  drawback  to  this  life,  Denny,  old  man!" 

"Humph!"  said  Williams. 

"S'truth,  old  sour  ball,  a  good  sprightly  girl 
would  liven  you  up  all  right." 

"Heaven  forbid!" 

"And  as  for  Dennis,  I  don't  get  him.  Good- 
lookin'  big  buck  like  that  could  have  any  girl  he 
crooked  his  finger  to,  and  he  won't  even  go  down 
to  Los  Angeles  and  see  a  girl  show." 

"I  should  say  not." 

"Well,  you're  makin'  a  great  mistake,  my 
boy.  I  tell  you  a  man  needs  the  ladies — some- 
times I  jolly  well  feel  I'm  wasting  my  life  up 
here  in  this — this " 

"Eveless  Eden!" 

"Yes,  that's  it." 

"Don't  Shawn  and  I  provide  you  with  in- 


MARRIED?  21 

tellectual  companionship,  Chuck?"  inquired 
Williams. 

"Intellectual — yes.  I  don't  want  clever 
women.  I  want  'em  pretty  and  silly !" 

"Williams,  we  must  see  that  Chuck  gets  'a 
raise'  so  he  can  marry  and  bring  his  wife  out.  It 
would  be  so  good  for  us  to  have  something 
*  pretty  and  silly'  around  the  place." 

"Why  not  get  a  parrot?"  asked  Williams, 
strolling  down  into  the  garden. 

"Poor  old  Williams!  Some  girl  must  have 
given  him  a  nawsty  wallop!  Isn't  he  the  crab 
on  women!" 

"He's  apparently  not  a  *  ladies'  man,'"  smiled 
Dennis. 

"All  right  for  him — but  you 

"Oh,  let  up  on  me,  kid.  You  amuse  me  more 
than  any  wife  could." 

"I'm  going  to  form  an  alliance  with  Kate, 
that  beautiful  Mexican  demi-mondaine,  old 
Pinto's  daughter " 

"None  of  that,  Chuck!"  from  Dennis  sternly. 

The  boy  laughed. 

"I'm  off  to  court  her  now,  with  my  trusty  gui- 
tar and  a  knife  in  my  Boston  garter." 

He  sauntered  off. 

"I   mean   what   I   say!     I'll   bounce   you  if 


22  MARRIED? 

you  try  any  of  that  native  wife  stuff,"  Dennis 
called  after  him. 

He  sat  on  alone,  smoking  and  thinking.  He 
did  not  wish  to  be  different  from  other  men. 
He  had  decided  long  ago,  in  his  days  of  ranching, 
that  some  men  must  be  less  highly  sexed  than 
others,  just  as  some  men  lacked  a  hunger  for 
drink.  That  some  fastidious  sense,  of  which  he 
was  rather  ashamed,  had  kept  him  from  enjoy- 
ing the  Saturday  night  debauches  of  his  com- 
panions, was  a  fact.  He  wondered  if  there  was 
some  woman  in  the  world  who  could  arouse 
his  need  of  her.  Then  he  recalled  Williams's 
"Wise  man — keep  away,"  and  smiling,  he  went 
out  to  join  the  misogynist  in  the  garden. 

Presently  a  motor  car  wound  its  way  below 
them. 

"Car  down  there,"  commented  Williams. 
"Going  to  Senorita  Padrasso's,  isn't  it?" 

"Hm.  She  doesn't  usually  have  evening 
visitors.  Probably  those  damned  Great  West- 
ern agents  again,"  said  Dennis.  "Let's  get 
on  our  horses  and  call  on  the  old  lady  our- 
selves." 

"Take  Chuck.  I've  got  a  book  I  want  to 
read." 

Dennis  went  in  pursuit  of  Chuck  and  ten 


MARRIED?  23 

minutes  later  they  galloped  down  toward  the 
Padrasso  ranch. 

They  found  the  old  woman  entertaining  a 
strange  man,  who  spoke  Spanish.  She  was 
thought  to  be  more  than  a  hundred  years  old, 
and  she  was  very  deaf.  She  was  friendly  with 
Dennis,  who  did  her  many  a  favour,  but  she 
adored  Chuck  who  sang  to  her,  made  love  to  her, 
and  made  her  shake  with  laughter.  The  strange 
gentleman,  who  was  called  Roderiguez,  did 
not  welcome  the  newcomers.  He  tried  to  engage 
their  hostess  in  Spanish  conversation,  but  she 
had  no  eyes  for  any  one  but  Chuck.  While  the 
latter  played  monkey-shines,  Dennis  inquired  of 
the  stranger,  in  excellent  Spanish,  how  long  he 
had  been  in  the  employ  of  the  Great  Western 
Railroad,  and  when  he  denied  it  hotly,  Dennis 
laughed.  By  staying  until  the  old  lady  went  to 
sleep,  they  sat  him  out.  They  saw  him  off  the 
place  before  they  rode  home. 

"Reg'lar  movie  stuff,  isn't  it?'*  said  Chuck. 
"Two  great  corporations  held  at  bay  by  old 
Spanish  heiress  with  the  keystone  acres." 

"  Great  mistake  to  have  grown  our  best  forest 
on  the  old  lady's  land,  I  should  say,"  commented 
Dennis. 

"Will   be   if   the   Great   Western   grabs   her 


24  MARRIED? 

ranch  in  the  end.  Some  day  one  of  their  agents 
will  get  her  to  make  a  cross  to  a  document,  he'll 
choke  her  a  bit,  and  we'll  find  her  dead  and  the 
land  gone!"  prophesied  Chuck. 

"I  think  I'll  just  establish  a  guard  over  her. 
After  all,  we  rent  her  land  and  cultivate  it — we 
can  say  we're  guarding  our  property,"  Dennis 
mused  aloud. 

"You  dote  on  this  ranch,  don't  you,  Dennis?" 

"Yes." 

"Miss  Livingston  couldn't  hire  many  such 
managers." 

"Miss  Livingston  didn't  hire  me — Judge 
Tracey  is  my  boss." 

"He's  only  executor.  She's  the  whole  cheese. 
Ever  see  her?" 

"No." 

"I  have.  Beauty!  Regular  spoiled,  papa's 
darling  of  a  beauty.  Say  her  father  never  re- 
fused her  anything  in  her  life.  You  ought  to  see 
her,  Dennis." 

"Not  I!  I  never  think  of  her  as  a  person. 
She's  just  the  human  appendage  to  the  Liv- 
ingston estate.  That's  all  I  want  to  know  about 
her." 

"Lord,  you  are  some  humorist!  Fancy  call- 
ing Marcia  Livingston  the  human  appendage 


MARRIED?  25 

to  the  Livingston  estate!"  laughed  Chuck 
mightily. 

"I  wish  we'd  threatened  that  fellow  to-night." 

"Can't  keep  the  old  girl  from  having  callers, 
I  suppose.  I'd  better  marry  her,  Denny,  and  sell 
you  the  land  the  minute  she  dies.  One  of  these 
days  she'll  fall  to  pieces  like  the  one-hoss  shay, 
and  one  of  us  has  got  to  be  on  hand." 

Dennis  laughed,  touched  his  horse,  and  gal- 
loped the  last  half  mile  to  the  ranch  house, 
with  Chuck  at  his  heels  hallooing  wildly,  with 
echoes  answering  on  all  sides. 

"Shut  up!"  begged  Dennis,  whereupon  si- 
lence closed  down  like  a  huge  lid  upon  the 
world. 


CHAPTER  III 

MARCIA  LIVINGSTON  devoted  herself 
entirely  to  the  rehearsals  of  the  Dun- 
sany  play.  It  was  characteristic  of 
her  that,  given  an  object  and  sufficient  incentive, 
nothing  could  stop  her  attainment  of  it.  She  re- 
fused all  invitations  during  the  day,  and  if  she 
did  accept  a  dinner,  she  ran  away  as  soon  as  the 
coffee  was  served.  Back  to  "my  job"  as  she 
phrased  it.  Her  friends  all  laughed  at  her,  but 
the  vagaries  of  Marcia  were  always  amusing  to 
them. 

For  three  weeks  she  thought,  ate,  slept,  and 
waked  in  the  atmosphere  of  Dunsany.  Her 
enthusiasm  and  tirelessness  urged  the  actors  to 
the  same  devotion.  Finally  the  night  of  the 
premier  came  and  the  little  theatre  scored  its 
greatest  success.  The  critics  were  congratu- 
latory. The  Sunday  supplement  burst  out  with 
special  illustrated  articles  about  Miss  Livingston 
and  her  Toy  Theatre.  Poor  Mr.  Sawyer  ad- 
mitted his  defeat  and  tendered  his  resignation. 
"You  see,  Marcia,  you  really  have  a  talent  for 

26 


MARRIED?  27 

this  if  you  would  only  stick  at  it,"  said  Mary 
Jane  Paul  at  the  end  of  the  week. 

"I  hate  sticking  at  things — it  bores  me." 
"Doesn't  the  success  of  this  play  please  you?" 
"Oh,  yes,  I  intended  to  succeed,  but  I'm  tired 
to  death,  and  after  all,  is  it  worth  getting  so 
tired  for?" 

"Dear  old  Marcia,  that  what's-the-use  spoils 
everything  for  you,  doesn't  it?' 

"  Yes !  I  suppose  so.  Beastly  tiresome  world, 
Mary  Jane." 

"It  isn't  to  people  who  have  to  work." 
"Rubbish!  I  don't  believe  it.  That's  just 
a  sham — that  work-and-you'11-be-happy  busi- 
ness. Everybody  naturally  hates  work.  The 
dream  of  every  living  creature  is  to  get  money 
enough  so  he  will  not  have  to  work." 

"There  are  lots  of  people  whose  work  is  the 
thing  they  live  for.  They  don't  care  about 
money  at  all.  Giving  up  work  would  be  Hades 
to  them." 

Marcia  smiled. 

"Mary  Jane,  I've  been  hearing  about  those 
mythical  busy  bees  all  my  life  and  I've  never  met 
one  that  I  believed  in." 

"  I  can  take  you  to  a  whole  bee-hive  of  them ! " 
"For  goodness  sake,  do!     I'd  like  to  be  con- 


28  MARRIED? 

vinced  that  I  am  wrong.  The  whole  thing 
seems  to  me  a  vicious  circle.  To  get  the  work 
of  the  world  done  leisure  and  money  are  dangled 
as  a  bait.  But  the  rich  know  that  leisure 
and  money  spell  boredom." 

"But  the  rich  worked  during  the  war, 
Marcia." 

"Yes,  but  that  was  hysterical.  Things  had 
to  be  done  quickly,  the  result  was  important. 
Whether  you  were  any  good  or  not,  at  least  you 
knew  you  were  a  patriot.  That's  all  gone  now. 
You  can't  keep  up  the  pace  unless  you've  got  a 
consuming  desire  to  uplift  the  race,  or  make 
over  humanity,  or  start  a  social  revolution.  I 
don't  want  to  do  any  of  those  things." 

"Well,  it's  a  pity.  It  is  the  fanatics  who  are 
really  happy!"  exclaimed  Mary  Jane. 

"There  isn't  any  school  where  they  graduate 
fanatics,  I  suppose,"  laughed  Marcia. 

"If  I  wanted  to  be  bromidic  I'd  say  the 
School  of  Life,"  smiled  Mary  Jane.  "  Why  don't 
you  marry,  Marcia,  and  have  some  babies?" 

"I  never  meet  anybody  I  want  to  live  with. 
Do  you?" 

Mary  Jane  laughed. 

"I'd  be  satisfied  with  plain  man — you'd  want 
one-hundred-per-cent  hero. ' ' 


MARRIED?  29 

"I  don't  know  what  I  want.  I  only  know  I 
haven't  got  it." 

Several  days  after  this  conversation  Mary 
Jane  telephoned  Marcia  about  some  matter  of 
business  at  the  theatre.  Young  Brooks  was  to 
direct  the  next  production,  and  Marcia  refused 
to  take  any  responsibility  about  what  he  did  or 
how  he  did  it. 

"By  the  way,"  said  Mary  Jane,  "were  you  in 
earnest  about  meeting  some  workers  who  work 
for  the  love  of  it?" 

"Certainly  I  was." 

"All  right.  If  you  will  meet  me  at  Grand 
Central  Station  at  three  o'clock  Friday,  in  your 
oldest  suit  and  nothing  but  a  nightie  in  your 
bag,  I'll  take  you  on  an  adventure  over  the  week- 
end." 

"You'll  find  me  standing  under  the  clock! 
Couldn't  we  motor  to  the  place?" 

"No  motor — no  maid.  You  will  wear  an 
assumed  name,  and  be  introduced  as  an  actress 
or  some  kind  of  employee  of  the  theatre." 

"Good!     Sounds  interesting.     I'll  be  there." 

Promptly  at  three  Mary  Jane  Paul  arrived 
at  a  position  under  the  clock.  At  quarter  after 
there  was  still  no  Marcia.  The  train  left  at 
3:21.  Miss  Paul  made  up  her  mind  that  at 


30  MARRIED? 

eighteen  minutes  after  three  she  would  board 
her  train.  Just  as  she  moved  toward  the  gate 
she  saw  Marcia  saunter  through  the  crowd. 
She  waved  at  Mary  Jane  and  at  her  frantic  sig- 
nals she  nodded  and  seemed  about  to  hurry,  when 
Mr.  Clarke  Jessup  stopped  her  for  an  elaborate 
greeting.  Meanwhile,  the  train  departed.  When 
she  finally  joined  Miss  Paul,  that  tried  friend 
wore  an  enduring  smile. 

"The  train  has  gone,"  she  remarked. 

"Oh,  has  it?     Well — can't  we  get  another?" 

"Yes,  in  an  hour.  It's  a  slow  train  and  it 
doesn't  stop  where  we  want  it  to,  but  that's 
the  price  you  pay  for  being  late." 

"Was  I  late?" 

"  You  were — as  usual." 

"Does  it  matter?" 

"Yes." 

"  Mary  Jane,  my  faults  do  wear  on  you,  don't 
they?" 

"At  times." 

"Punctuality  is  the  thief  of  time,  you  always 
wait  for  other  people.  The  thing  to  do  is  always 
to  be  the  latest." 

Mary  Jane  laughed. 

"You  live  up  to  your  principles,  such  as  they 
are,  Marcia,"  she  conceded. 


MARRIED?  31 

"Now,  tell  me  where  we're  going  and  why  I 
am  incognito." 

They  sat  down  in  the  waiting  room. 

"We're  going  up  into  the  country  near  White 
Plains,  and  we  are  going  to  stay  in  a  commun- 
ity of  artists  and  craft  workers,  who  have  been 
driven  out  of  town  by  the  high  cost  of  every- 
thing. They  are  trying  to  support  their  own 
needs." 

"I  see — farm  and  everything,  you  mean." 

"Yes.  They  are  very  simple,  and  I  thought 
it  might  make  them  a  bit  self-conscious  if  they 
knew  you  were  coming.  I  want  you  to  see  them 
just  as  they  are." 

"All  right.  I'll  be  Edith  Walker,  an  under- 
study at  the  theatre.  Is  there  anything  else  I 
have  to  remember?  Don't  I  look  rather  poor 
and  working-girlish?" 

"Not  specially." 

"This  suit  is  four  years  old." 

"Um.  You  might  try  a  simple,  humble 
manner." 

"Like  this?" 

Mary  Jane  laughed  aloud  at  the  transfor- 
mation, posture,  expression,  the  droop  of  the 
head — it  was  instantaneous  and  perfect. 

"Marcia — you  monkey!"  chuckled  Miss  Paul. 


32  MARRIED? 

"Tell  me  about  the  people  we're  to  meet, 
Mary  Jane." 

"No.     I'll  let  them  introduce  themselves." 

The  journey  was  certainly  tiresome.  The 
old  train  jerked  along,  stopping  at  every  sta- 
tion except  the  one  they  wanted.  Mary  Jane 
hoped  to  make  a  connection  with  a  trolley  when 
they  finally  descended  at  a  junction,  but  true 
to  form  the  "Interurban"  had  just  left.  There 
would  be  no  car  for  one  hour  and  twenty  min- 
utes. 

"Can't  we  walk?  I  will  not  sit  in  this  place 
all  that  time,"  said  Marcia. 

"Roads  is  bad,  lady.  We've  had  a  lot  o'  rain 
out  here." 

"  Come  on,  Mary  Jane,"  urged  Marcia,  leading 
the  way. 

Mary  Jane  smiled  and  followed.  The  first 
half  mile  of  road  was  fair,  but  after  that  it  was 
heavy  going.  It  was  muddy  and  slippery. 

"How  far  is  it?"  demanded  Marcia. 

"Station  man  said  four  miles." 

"My  Lord!  Look  at  my  feet — and  I  haven't 
got  any  other  shoes." 

"Neither  have  I.  We'll  have  some  work 
cleaning  them." 

"Do  we  have  to  clean  them  ourselves?" 


MARRIED?  33 

"Of  course  we  do." 

"I'll  sit  right  here,  then,  and  wait  for  some- 
thing to  happen.  If  all  I've  got  to  look  forward 
to  at  the  end  of  four  miles  of  this  is  the  fun  of 
cleaning  my  shoes,  I'm  through.  Something 
has  got  to  happen." 

She  sat  down  on  a  rock. 

"The  3:21  train  lets  you  out  in  the  heart  of 
the  place." 

"If  you'd  told  me  that,  Mary  Jane,  I  would 
have  made  the  train." 

"You  may  sit  here  all  night " 

"  No,  I  won't.     Here  comes  a  wagon  now — 

Marcia  hurried  out  and  stopped  the  driver, 
explaining  their  dilemma.  He  motioned  to  the 
back  of  the  wagon.  They  got  in,  and  jolted 
off  up  the  road,  bouncing  up  and  down  as  the 
wagon  struck  the  mud  holes.  It  was  dark  when 
the  driver  stopped  and  indicated  lights  half  a 
mile  away. 

They  trudged  along  silently,  too  tired  to  talk. 
Finally  they  came  to  the  lighted  houses  and 
Mary  Jane  lifted  a  door  latch  and  entered.  A 
woman  sat  in  the  firelight  and  a  man  was 
playing  the  piano  magnificently. 

"Why — it's  Jaronski!"  exclaimed  Marcia. 

The  woman  rose  and  came  to  welcome  them. 


34  MARRIED? 

Marcia,  upon  introduction,  became  every 
inch  Edith  Walker.  She  had  only  time  to  note 
the  spacious,  almost  empty,  room,  before  they 
were  led  away  to  the  guest  chambers.  These 
were  simple  rooms,  bare  of  all  except  necessities. 
Sleeping  porches  contained  the  beds.  There 
was  a  bathroom. 

Madame  Jaronski,  a  famous  violinist  herself, 
promised  that  Jaronski  would  clean  their  boots. 
Marcia  laughed  at  the  idea. 

"But — Mees  Walker — Jaronski  pride  him- 
self upon  boots.  He  cleans  well." 

"No,  thanks — we'll  do  our  own,"  said  Mary 
Jane  firmly. 

"I  weel  geev  you  some  sandals  for  to-night. 
To-morrow,  we  clean  boots." 

Bathed  and  rested,  and  wearing  the  welcome 
sandals,  the  two  girls  descended  later.  They 
were  taken  then  to  the  community  centre  where 
everybody  dined.  They  heard  much  talk  and 
laughter  as  they  entered.  One  group  sat  at  a 
big  table,  and  some  family  tables  were  scattered 
about.  Marcia  noticed  that  they  all  wore  a 
uniform  garment  and  that  it  was  exceedingly 
individual.  The  costume  consisted  of  wide 
trousers  and  a  sort  of  Chinese  coat  for  both 
women  and  men.  They  all  wore  leather  san- 


MARRIED?  35 

dais.  But  the  colours  were  varied.  Some 
women  had  added  a  wide  sash  to  belt  in  the 
coat — some  were  plain,  some  decorated. 

The  food  was  simple  but  good.  Certain  mem- 
bers served  it.  Introduction  of  the  guests  was 
followed  by  a  clatter  of  talk.  The  theory  of  the 
community  was  explained,  based  upon  equal 
labour  for  every  member. 

After  dinner  almost  everybody  straggled  along 
to  the  Jaronskis'  house,  where  those  magnificent 
artists  played  as  Marcia  had  never  heard  them 
play  before  at  any  concert.  There  was  a  sim- 
ple friendliness  about  the  group  that  was  restful 
and  charming.  Later  Adolph  Simmons,  the 
painter,  asked  them  all  to  his  studio  to  see  a 
picture  which  he  had  just  finished.  As  they 
strolled  along,  Jaronski  fell  in  step  with  Marcia. 

"Have  you  lived  out  here  ever  since  you  came 
to  America,  Mr.  Jaronski?"  she  asked. 

"No — oh,  no.  For  five  miserable  years  I 
leeved  in  thees  terrible  countree  before  I  found 
thees  place." 

"Why  terrible?"  she  interrupted. 

"Oh — crude  self-satisfied  reech!  It  is  money 
— money — eet  can  buy  anytheeing!  Art,  happi- 
ness, beauty — yes,  says  America,  I  weel  buy  it 
with  money." 


36  MARRIED? 

"And  you  think  that  cannot  be  done?" 

"I  know  eet  cannot.  You  can  buy  only  ma- 
terial things  with  money.  So  much  to  eat — 
so  much  to  wear — it  ees  all  you  can  buy.  Here 
we  know  that.  Here  we  have  our  work  and  our 
play  and  that  ees  all  we  want." 

"Is  that  why  you  gave  only  two  concerts 
in  New  York  last  winter?" 

"I  gave  many  concerts  in  New  York  last  win- 
der, Mademoiselle.  Down  on  the  East  Side,  to 
music  lovers,  I  give  many  concerts.  Selma  and 
I,  we  care  not  for  money." 

They  entered  the  studio  of  the  painter.  The 
same  workmanlike  simplicity  was  here.  He 
set  up  the  canvas,  in  the  proper  light,  and  waited. 
It  was  a  symbolic  thing  called  "The  Goal."  It 
pictured  mankind — the  struggling,  toiling  mob, 
the  hand  of  each  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  one 
before,  faces  upturned  as  to  some  holy  grail. 

"But  what  is  the  goal?"  someone  demanded. 

The  painter  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  smiled. 
The  discussion  was  fast  and  spirited.  A  tech- 
nical criticism  of  the  presentation,  the  form, 
brought  an  illuminating  explanation  from  Sim- 
mons. The  symbolism  of  the  title  came  in  for 
attack. 

"There  is  a  fine  rhythm  to  your  procession, 


MARRIED?  37 

Simmons.  There  is  music  in  it.  I  feel  it,"  said 
Jaronski. 

Suddenly  a  gong  struck.     Marcia  started. 

"It  is  our  curfew,  Mademoiselle,"  explained 
Madame  Jaronski.  "We  go  to  bed  early  and 
rise  the  same." 

So  with  "good-night"  they  separated  and 
went  to  the  various  cottages.  When  Marcia 
and  Mary  Jane  were  left  alone,  the  latter  said: 

"What  do  you  think  about  it?" 

"It's  upsetting,  isn't  it?" 

"Upsetting?" 

"Suppose  we  have  got  hold  of  only  false 
values?" 

"Look  what  these  people  find  when  they  dis- 
card them!" 

"But  you  can't  tell  me  they  like  serving  meals 
and  cooking  and  all  that." 

"But  you  change  your  work  all  the  time. 
That's  why  it  isn't  drudgery.  You  ought  to  be 
here  when  they  all  go  into  the  fields  for  the  har- 
vesting, or  when  they  sow  in  the  spring,  or  when 
the  men  chop  the  winter's  wood.  They  make 
everything  a  festival — they  sing  and  dance  and 
make  games  of  their  work.  It's  really  great  fun." 

"Fancy  the  great  Jaronski  chopping  wood!" 
laughed  Marcia. 


38  MARRIED? 

"He  isn't  the  great  Jaronski  here.  That's 
why  he  loves  it.  It  is  a  real  democracy." 

"Don't  they  get  tired  of  each  other,  and  fight 
and  run  off  with  one  another's  wives,  like  the  rest 
of  the  world?" 

"I  suppose  they  disagree — they  may  even 
quarrel.  But  if  you're  just  as  busy  as  you  can 
be  all  day  long,  and  if  you  love  your  neighbour, 
you're  apt  to  be  a  pretty  normal  fellow.  It  is 
the  artificial  stimuli  that  gets  the  world  we  live 
in  so  upset." 

"Well,"  yawned  Marcia,  "no  artificial  stimuli 
will  keep  me  awake  a  minute  longer!" 

Marcia  dreamed  that  she  was  lying  on  top  of 
the  water  and  someone  was  splashing  her. 
Finally  she  sat  up,  trying  to  splash  back.  Mary 
Jane  stood  peering  out  of  her  porch — there  were 
peals  of  laughter  from  below. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Marcia. 

"They  are  all  in  the  pool.  Hear  them  splash? 
Jaronski  gave  it  to  them.  The  whole  crowd 
goes  in  every  morning,  winter  and  summer.  I 
found  bathing  dresses  in  our  room.  Want  to 
go  in?" 

"I'll  probably  take  my  death  of  cold,  but  I'll 
go  if  you  will." 

They  hurried  inside  to  change. 


MARRIED?  39 

"Lord,  is  this  all  you  wear?"  asked  Marcia. 

"That's  all.     It's  perfectly  decent." 

"When  in  Rome!  I  look  rather  nice,  don't 
I?" 

They  ran  down  to  the  pool,  where  a  shout  of 
welcome  met  them.  They  found  their  hosts 
waiting  for  them.  They  plunged  in,  swam 
about  to  warm  up,  and  then  raced  home  to 
dress. 

After  breakfast  everyone  disappeared  to  his 
job.  Only  half  the  day  was  spent  in  com- 
munity work.  The  rest  belonged  to  the  individ- 
ual for  his  own  art  or  for  recreation. 

Marcia  and  Mary  Jane  went  at  their  boot- 
cleaning  on  the  back  porch  of  the  Jaronskis'. 
They  talked  and  laughed  and  raced  each  other. 
Marcia  was  sure  her  boots  had  the  highest 
shine. 

"You  see  how  the  thing  gets  into  your  blood!" 
said  Mary  Jane. 

Saturday  night  was  "Jinks  Night,"  and  a 
different  group  each  week  arranged  some  sort  of 
play.  This  particular  night  there  was  a  bur- 
lesque on  Mr.  Simmons 's  picture,  "The  Goal." 
It  was  called  "First  Base"  and  was  both  witty 
and  well  done.  There  was  music.  Jaronski 
played  the  piano  in  mittens — a  convulsing  per- 


40  MARRIED? 

formance — there  was  dancing  and  singing  by 
the  children. 

"  There  is  more  enjoyment  in  this  room  than 
the  whole  of  Broadway  contains,"  Mary  Jane 
whispered  to  Marcia. 

The  latter  nodded.  She  was  deeply  interested 
in  this  group,  there  was  no  escaping  the  fact. 
She  never  relaxed  her  attention.  She  was  still 
skeptical.  She  waited  to  see  a  mask  drop,  to 
hear  a  bitter  laugh — for  the  curtain  to  go  down 
on  the  play.  She  had  to  admit  that  she  was 
thoroughly  enjoying  herself  meanwhile. 

Sunday  was  distinguished  by  a  sort  of  choral 
service  of  praise  out  of  doors.  There  was  a 
minimum  of  work,  and  games,  and  a  long  walk 
filled  the  afternoon. 

"I've  had  a  wonderful  time,  you  nice  people," 
Marcia  said  to  the  Jaronskis  at  parting. 

"You  must  come  again,  you  will  get  used  to 
our  queer  ways,"  smiled  Jaronski. 

"I  like  your  queer  ways,  if  I  don't  quite 
understand  them." 

"But  it  is  so  simple,  when  you  know  the 
truth- 

"  What  is  the  truth?"  she  asked  him  earnestly. 

"That  work  and  love  are  the  things  which 
count." 


MARRIED?  41 


:But  art- 


"Art  is  the  expression  of  both  of  them,"  he 
beamed — "the  child  of  their  union." 

The  girls  looked  back  to  wave  at  them  from 
the  station.  Jaronski  and  his  Selma  stood 
hand  in  hand,  smiling,  content,  as  if  they  did 
indeed  "know  the  truth  and  it  had  set  them 
free." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  visit  to  the  artists'  guild  left  a  very 
deep  impression  on  Marcia's  mind.  She 
thought  of  it  first  with  affection,  with 
a  sense  of  pleasure  that  there  was  such  a  sanc- 
tuary. But  finally  a  growing  sense  of  irritation 
pervaded  her  memory  of  it.  Here  were  people 
who  scorned  what  she  had,  and  knew  a  peace 
that  was  denied  to  her. 

Feverishly  searching  for  something  to  do, 
she  began  to  plan  a  school  of  acting  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Toy  Theatre.  She  and  Mary 
Jane  Paul  worked  out  a  comprehensive  plan  for 
such  a  school,  with  a  faculty  recruited  from  the 
best  artists  to  be  lured  by  the  large  salaries 
which  Marcia  was  prepared  to  pay. 

She  had  a  real  interest  in  the  theatre,  felt  a 
real  discouragement  at  the  low  estate  to  which 
both  drama  and  acting  had  fallen  in  this  coun- 
try. A  school  of  acting,  which  attempted  culti- 
vation of  the  mind  combined  with  technical 
training,  might  be  of  service.  She  knew  two 
men  and  three  women  distinguished  on  the 

42 


MARRIED?  43 

stage,  who  had  grown  old  in  riches  and  fame  and 
who  would  no  doubt  gladly  cooperate  in  such  a 
scheme  to  give  the  rising  generation  the  benefit 
of  their  experience  and  knowledge. 

For  a  month  she  concerned  herself  with  this 
idea.  She  had  dinners  to  which  she  invited 
actors,  the  big  scenic  artists,  and  famous  dancers 
to  talk  over  such  a  school.  Her  own  enthusi- 
asm fired  other  people  and  her  faculty  grew  as- 
sured before  so  much  as  one  pupil  was  enlisted. 

Architects  drew  plans  for  remodellingthe  build- 
ing in  which  the  Toy  Theatre  was  situated.  It 
was  to  be  the  most  modern,  up-to-date  institu- 
tion in  the  country. 

The  newspapers,  always  keen  on  Miss  Liv- 
ingston as  copy  described  it  in  detail,  repro- 
duced the  architects'  sketches,  had  interviews 
with  Marcia  and  Mary  Jane  Paul,  followed  by  a 
symposium  of  opinions  from  great  actors  and 
managers.  Letters  poured  in  from  prospective 
pupils.  Work  began  on  the  building,  and  Marcia 
was  busy  and  content.  By  dint  of  speeding  up 
everybody  the  work  progressed  rapidly.  Then 
came  hours  of  consultation  and  days  of  absorp- 
tion in  decorators  and  fittings  for  the  various 
class  rooms,  rehearsal  rooms,  dancing  studios, 
and  the  gymnasium. 


44  MARRIED? 

Mary  Jane  Paul  counselled  union  hours  and 
occasional  rest  days  in  the  country,  but  all  in 
vain.  She  knew  from  past  experience  that  a 
reaction  from  this  overwork  was  due,  and  she 
devoutly  hoped  that  the  plans  might  be  con- 
summated and  the  school  assured  before  Marcia 
tired  of  it,  because  Mary  Jane  Paul  believed 
mightily  in  the  idea.  She  also  knew  that  when 
Marcia  stepped  from  under,  the  whole  responsi- 
bility would  descend  upon  her,  just  as  the  thea- 
tre itself  had  been  tossed  over  to  her  when  its 
wilful  owner  tired  of  it. 

She  loved  Marcia  Livingston  and  understood 
her  perfectly  for  the  generous,  big-hearted, 
spoiled  child  of  her  environment.  She  mourned 
to  herself  over  the  restless,  unsatisfied  spirit  of 
the  girl  which  drove  her  desperately  from  one  ex- 
periment to  another. 

Contrary  to  her  usual  form,  Marcia's  inter- 
est held  out  in  the  new  venture,  until  proof 
had  been  read  on  the  announcement  of  the 
first  year's  courses,  the  date  of  the  opening 
settled  upon,  and  all  the  details  were  well  in 
hand. 

"Mary  Jane,  I'm  tired.  I  think  I'll  go  to 
Europe." 

"Couldn't  you  rest  somewhere  in  this  coun- 


MARRIED?  45 

try,  Marcia?  There  will  be  decisions  to  be  made 
all  summer  long " 

"You  can  make  them." 

"I  don't  like  the  responsibility." 

"You'll  decide  as  well  as  I  can.  I'm  sick  of 
the  whole  thing.  I  want  to  forget  about  it." 

"But  you'll  be  back  for  the  opening,  of 
course." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so." 

"Marcia,  don't  be  silly!  Of  course  you'll 
open  this  school.  Go  away  to  Europe  or  wher- 
ever you  like  and  amuse  yourself." 

"What  about  you?  You  must  be  nearly 
dead.  I  know  your  work  has  been  doubled." 

This  was  the  first  mention  of  this  fact. 

"I'm  all  right.     I  love  it." 

"I'm  going  to  double  your  salary  and  send 
you  off  for  six  months  next  winter,  Mary  Jane." 

"No — you'll  do  neither  of  those  things.  My 
salary  is  sufficient  and  I  don't  want  to  go  away. 
I'm  so  interested  in  the  new  school  that  I'd 
work  all  night  on  it,  if  I  dared." 

Marcia  looked  at  her  earnestly. 

"  You're  a  rare  person,  Mary  Jane  Paul.  I 
wish  I  had  your  power  to  accomplish  things." 

"Your  record  of  accomplishment  is  a  fair 
one,  I  should  say,  Marcia."  Mary  Jane  smiled. 


46  MARRIED? 

"No.  I  start  things,  I  never  finish  them. 
I'd  fail  without  you.  Don't  imagine  I  don't 
know  that." 

She  walked  away  with  that,  leaving  Mary  Jane 
Paul  flushed  with  pleasure  and  sincerely  touched 
by  the  tribute  of  appreciation. 

The  height  of  Marcia's  enthusiasm  over  her 
school  was  only  equalled  by  the  depth  of  her 
boredom  with  it  when  it  was  finally  conceived 
and  near  completion.  She  had  spared  her- 
self not  at  all,  for  months,  and  overwrought 
nerves  declared  themselves  in  no  uncertain 
ways. 

It  was  a  rainy  Sunday  that  she  reached  the 
lowest  stage  of  ebb-tide.  She  tried  in  vain  to 
read.  She  called  up  several  people  to  try 
for  a  company  at  lunch,  but  they  all  had  other 
plans  or  engagements.  To  her  great  relief 
Clarke  Jessup  arrived  about  one  o'clock  and 
said  he  hoped  to  be  asked  to  lunch. 

"Clarke,  you  are  an  answer  to  prayer!"  she 
said  enthusiastically. 

"You  must  make  up  strange  prayers,"  he 
smiled.  "What's  the  matter?  Low  in  your 
mind?" 

"Yes — rock  bottom  in  my  mind." 

"No    wonder    you're    stubborn,    Marcia.    I 


MARRIED?  47 

never  suspected  a  granite  mind.  I  thought 
you'd  been  elevating  the  race  or  the  actor 
or  something.  Didn't  I  read  about  it  in  the 

?,, 
£»<""»• 

"Yes,  that's  the  trouble.  I  suppose  I'm  too 
tired  and  I  hate  rainy  days." 

"Poor  child.  Cheerio!  Always  get  a  reac- 
tion when  you  pull  off  a  big  job." 

"I  haven't  pulled  it  off.  I  never  pull  off  any- 
thing. I  just  dive  into  an  idea  head  first  and 
then  when  it  gets  to  be  a  fact  and  has  to  be 
dressed  up  in  details,  I  wade  ashore  and  walk 
away." 

"Well,  why  not?  It's  something  to  have 
made  that  initial  dive.  Lord  knows,  I  haven't 
got  the  energy." 

"I've  got  all  the  energy  in  the  world  and 
nothing  real  to  do!"  she  protested.  "Clarke, 
do  you  ever  wish  you'd  been  born  poor?" 

"Lord,  no!" 

"I  do.  I  wish  I'd  had  to  work  to  survive!" 
she  exclaimed  fervently. 

"What  you  need  is  a  husband  to  keep  you 
down,  Marcia.  I've  told  you  for  three  years 
that  you  ought  to  marry  me." 

"I  don't  see  what  difference  marriage  would 
make  to  either  of  us,  Clarke.  The  fact  remains 


48  MARRIED? 

that  we  both  have  to  keep  running  around  from 
place  to  place  to  make  things  happen  in  our 
lives." 

"Maybe — but  there's  no  reason  why  we 
shouldn't  run  together,  is  there?" 

"You  don't  love  me  and  I  don't  love  you " 

"I  can't  say  about  you,  of  course.  I  like  you 
better  than  any  woman  I  know.  I  don't  think 
modern  people,  like  us,  go  in  for  the  primitive 
passion  much,  do  you?" 

"Maybe  not" — with  a  sigh. 

"Better  take  me  on,  Marcia." 

"We  wouldn't  bring  one  new  thing  to  each 
other.  We  wouldn't  make  one  bit  of  difference 
in  each  other's  lives." 

"No — well,  what  of  it?  I  don't  want  to  be 
torpedoed  out  of  all  my  habits,  do  you?  The 
war  came  near  doing  that  to  us,  and  my  God! 
how  I  do  love  my  habits." 

She  smiled  at  that  perforce.  Presently  she 
began  to  tell  him  about  the  artists'  community 
and  of  the  realities  they  seemed  to  have  laid 
hold  of.  He  listened,  with  his  handsome,  cyni- 
cal face  turned  toward  her. 

"Nothing  in  that,  old  girl — sounds  like  a 
bunch  of  cranks  to  me.  I'm  not  saying  that 
money  buys  everything,  but  to  people  brought 


MARRIED?  49 

up  as  we've  been,  it's  the  biggest  help  there  is  to 
getting  through  life." 

"Clarke,  isn't  there  anything  to  life  but  just 
getting  through?"  she  demanded. 

"I  don't  know.  Maybe.  Doesn't  seem  to 
be,  does  there?" 

"Have  you  ever  loved  anybody  terribly 
much?" 

"Hm — can't  say  I  have.  You  don't  think 
that  would  help  out,  do  you?  Beastly  upset- 
ting, that  kind  of  business." 

"But  I  want  to  be  upset!" 

He  laughed. 

"You're  awfully  young,  Marcia!" 

Right  out  of  her  heart  she  answered  him. 

"I'm  awfully  lonely,  Clarke." 

"Poor  Marcia.  I  know  what  you  mean. 
I've  felt  it,  too.  We  might  protect  each  other 
from  that,  dear." 

"Oh— I  wonder!" 

He  came  over  and  put  his  arms  about  her. 
She  did  not  free  herself.  She  stood  quite  still 
in  his  embrace,  and  the  waters  of  disillusion 
seemed  to  rise  about  her  in  a  flood.  What  was 
the  use  of  struggling  longer  to  save  herself? 
Here  was  a  human  being,  as  lonely  as  herself, 
who  wanted  her  companionship.  His  need  of 


50  MARRIED? 

her  was  not  great,  perhaps,  but  none  of  his 
needs  was  very  deep.  Perhaps  this  was  a  way 
out  of  her  perplexities. 

"Shall  we  have  a  try  at  it,  Marcia?"  his  cool 
voice  asked  her. 

"I  don't  love  you,  Clarke,"  she  said,  in  one 
last  protest. 

"Oh — that's  all  right.  I  don't  expect  much. 
We'll  get  used  to  each  other,  old  girl.  I  think 
we'll  hit  it  off  rather  well,  if  you  say  the  word." 

"All  right,  Clarke — it  seems  to  be  a  fair  bar- 
gain. It  isn't  very  romantic,  is  it?"  she  sighed. 

"Romantic?  No.  I  thought  that  was  rather 
confined  to  the  stage,  now,  isn't  it?" 

"I  suppose  so." 

"Shall  we  be  married  right  away?" 

"No — not  until  fall,  please." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right." 

Marcia  looked  at  him,  so  composed,  so  well 
done,  as  it  were,  and  suddenly  she  laughed.  He 
stared  at  her,  eyebrows  lifted. 

"Life  is  so  funny,  isn't  it?"  she  said  hysteri-  • 
cally. 

"I  don't  know — not  so  damn  funny!"  was  his 
cryptic  reply. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  WEEK  or  so  after  the  visit  of  the  Span- 
ish-speaking gentleman  to  Senorita  Pa- 
drasso  there  arrived  at  that  lady's  ranch 
house,  bag  and  baggage,  a  handsome  black-eyed 
woman  calling  herself  Amelita  Padrasso.  She 
brought  with  her  family  records  and  letters  and 
documents  to  substantiate  the  claim  that  she 
was  first  cousin  of  the  senorita,  the  child  of  old 
Don  Padrasso's  second  son,  Pedro. 

The  senorita  received  her  with  true  Spanish 
hospitality,  and  Chuck  found  her  thoroughly 
installed  in  the  household  when  he  stopped  by 
one  day  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  old  lady. 

The  newcomer  was  most  affable,  and  made  ex- 
cellent use  of  a  pair  of  splendid  black  eyes. 
Chuck  played  up  to  her,  until  he  saw  that  the 
Senorita  Padrasso  was  not  pleased.  He  turned 
his  attentions  upon  her. 

"Isn't  it  fine  for  you  to  discover  a  beautiful 
cousin?"  he  shouted  at  her. 

She  feigned  not  to  hear  him,  although  he 
knew  by  the  gleam  in  her  eyes  that  she  did. 

51 


52  MARRIED? 

"How  did  you  ever  find  each  other  out,  in  all 
this  great  wide  world?"  he  inquired  innocently. 

"I  have  been  searching  for  my  relatives  a 
long  time.  A  friend  in  Los  Angeles  heard  of 
Cousin  Rita,"  the  newcomer  replied. 

"Oh,  yes — Senor  Roderiguez,"  hazarded 
Chuck. 

"Do  you  know  him?"  the  woman  asked 
quickly. 

"I've  met  him  here,  at  the  senorita's.  He's 
a  delightful  fellow,  isn't  he?"  he  said  enthusi- 
astically. 

She  merely  smiled  at  that. 

"Senorita,  if  we  have  a  party  in  honour  of 
your  guest  at  our  ranch,  will  you  come?"  asked 
the  boy. 

"No,"  said  the  old  woman  promptly. 

"Cousin  Rita  is  so  frank,"  apologized  the 
guest. 

"She's  old  enough  to  be  frank.  When  I'm 
sixty  I  intend  to  begin  to  tell  nothing  but  the 
truth,  and  by  the  time  I'm  her  age,  nobody  will 
be  able  to  live  with  me." 

"It's  all  you  can  do  to  live  with  her,"  sighed 
the  cousin  indiscreetly. 

"Boy,"  said  the  old  woman,  "come  here!" 

Chuck  crossed  to  her  side. 


MARRIED?  53 

"Never  mind  her — talk  to  me,"  she  ordered. 

He  grinned  and  told  her  some  foolishness. 
She  did  not  bother  to  smile.  It  was  obvious 
she  was  troubled. 

"Sefiorita,  you  do  not  love  me  to-day,"  he 
challenged  her  loudly. 

"Where  is  Dennis  Shawn?"   she  answered. 

"He's  gone  off  to  look  at  some  trees  over 
toward  San  Mario." 

"Heworks- 

"He  does.  He  loves  this  ranch  as  if  he 
owned  it.  I  tell  him  he's  a  fool  to  care  so  much 
about  it,  because  some  day  he  may  have  to 
leave  it,  and  then  what?" 

"He  is  no  fool." 

"You'd  better  marry  him,  Seiiorita,  and  leave 
him  your  ranch,"  hazarded  Chuck. 

The  old  woman  grinned. 

"Who  is  this  man  you're  talking  of?"  in- 
quired Amelita. 

Again  the  old  woman  grinned. 

"My  lover,"  she  said. 

"What  is  she  talking  about?"  demanded  the 
cousin. 

"The  senorita  has  to  have  her  little  joke!" 

"Boy,  go  away  now.  Tell  Dennis  Shawn  to 
come,"  said  the  old  lady  with  a  royal  gesture. 


54  MARRIED? 

"The  audience  is  over,"  murmured  Chuck. 
"  Adios,  your  Royal  Highness,"  he  said,  kissing  her 
hand.  "Adios,  Madame,"  he  added  to  the  other. 

"Come  again,"  she  urged  him,  her  eyes  shin- 
ing. "It  is  terrible  here — so  lonely." 

"Oh,  I'll  be  in  and  out,"  he  assured  her. 

He  awaited  Dennis's  return  that  evening  with 
avidity.  He  turned  over  in  his  mind  all  day 
possibilities  of  the  situation. 

"Dennis,  old  man,  I've  turned  up  some- 
thing," he  announced  to  him. 

"Have  you,  Chuck?     Anything  exciting?" 

"May  turn  out  to  be  damned  exciting." 

"Well,  get  ahead  with  it." 

He  told  about  the  advent  of  Amelita,  the  fact 
that  she  knew  Roderiguez — his  suspicion  that 
the  old  lady  didn't  like  her. 

Dennis  whistled  a  long,  slow  note. 

"Enter  the  heiress!"  said  he. 

"Bogus!"  amended  Chuck. 

He  repeated  the  senorita's  request  that 
Dennis  come  to  see  her. 

"Too  tired  to-night.  I'll  go  over  to-morrow," 
he  said. 

"If  worse  comes  to  worst  and  Amelita  turns 
out  to  be  the  real  thing,  you've  got  to  marry 
her,  Dennis,  and  save  the  old  farm." 


MARRIED?  55 

''  You've  got  marriage  on  the  brain,"  laughed 
Dennis. 

He  took  himself  over  to  call  on  his  neigh- 
bour the  next  day,  however.  He  was  pre- 
sented to  the  handsome  relative  and  shared 
Chuck's  suspicion  that  the  old  seiiorita  did  not 
like  her. 

He  made  himself  extremely  agreeable. 

"I  suppose  this  is  an  entirely  new  kind  of  life 
to  you,  Seiiorita  Amelita,"  he  said.  "You  do 
not  have  ranches  in  Spain,  I  fancy — it  is  castles 
you  specialize  in,  isn't  it?" 

"What  do  you  say?"  demanded  his  hostess. 

He  shouted  his  casual  remark  somewhat 
embarrassedly. 

"Amelita  has  not  been  in  Spain,"  she  re- 
plied. 

"No?  Oh — I  thought  you  were  only  lately 
come  to  this  country,"  he  exclaimed. 

"No — I  was  born  here." 

"Strange  that  you  and  the  seiiorita  have  only 
just  found  each  other." 

"Not  so  strange — this  is  a  big  country,"  she 
parried. 

"Have  you  lived  long  in  Los  Angeles?" 

"What  makes  you  think  I  have  lived  there?" 

"I   don't  know — oh,  yes — Mr.  English   said 


56  MARRIED? 

that  you  knew  Senor  Roderiguez.  I  knew  he 
lived  there — I  suppose  that  misled  me." 

"Spaniards  always  find  each  other,"  she  said 
noncommittally. 

"Dennis  Shawn — do  you  like  Amelita?"  de- 
manded the  wicked  old  woman. 

"But,  Senorita,  yes — she  is  charming — she 
is  your  cousin,"  he  replied  gallantly. 

"Hm!"  sniffled  she. 

Dennis  went  back  to  the  ranch  house  and 
wrote  a  letter  to  Judge  Tracey  in  New  York. 

MY  DEAR  JUDGE: 

A  new  complication  has  arisen  in  regard  to  the  Padrasso 
Ranch.  A  woman  has  appeared  who  claims  to  be  the  only 
child  of  Senorita's  brother  Pedro.  She  brings  papers 
and  documents  to  prove  her  assertion.  If  this  is  the  truth, 
then,  of  course,  she  is  heiress  to  the  estate,  and  we  may 
have  to  wait  another  hundred  years  to  add  that  ranch  to 
Santa  Rosa. 

I  find  myself  suspicious  of  the  whole  affair,  however. 
The  woman  admits  acquaintance  with  a  Spaniard  named 
Roderiguez,  whom  we  feel  certain  is  in  the  pay-roll  of  the 
Great  Western.  If  you  authorize  me  to  do  a  little  Sher- 
lock Holmesing,  I'll  go  down  to  Los  Angeles  and  spy 
around  a  bit  myself.  If  she  is  another  of  their  agents, 
I'd  gladly  run  her  off  the  place. 

You  would  better  wire  me  directions. 

The  old  senorita  is  growing  very  feeble.  Her  mind 
seems  clear,  which  is  a  help  to  us,  but  she  might  drop  dead 


MARRIED?  57 

any  day.    We'd  better  dispose  of  the  heiress  promptly, 
if  she  is  counterfeit. 

My  cordial  regards  to  you,  Sir, 

Most  truly, 

DENNIS  SHAWN. 

Judge  Tracey's  wire  came  promptly. 

SANTA  ROSA  Aug.   10th 

By  all  means  investigate  woman.  I  authorize  any  ex- 
pense necessary. 

HORACE  TBACEY. 

"Well,  boys,"  said  Dennis  when  he  read  it, 
"you'll  have  to  run  the  shop  without  me  for  a 
while.  I'm  going  to  try  my  hand  as  'detecta- 
tif.'  I'm  going  after  the  record  of  the  beauti- 
ful Amelita." 

"How  long  do  you  think  you'll  be  gone?" 
Williams  inquired. 

"Depends  on  how  long  Amelita's  record  is. 
I  shan't  stay  more  than  a  week.  I'll  put  it  in  a 
regular  agency's  hands  if  necessary. '' 

He  paid  a  farewell  call  upon  the  Spanish 
ladies. 

"Anything  I  can  do  for  you  in  the  city?" 

The  senorita  gave  him  a  few  commissions. 

"We  shall  miss  you — shall  you  be  gone 
long?"  murmured  Amelita  softly. 


58  MARRIED? 

"Not  long,  I  hope,"  he  replied  as  softly. 

"Any  message  to  your  friend  Roderiguez?" 
he  asked  the  old  lady. 

"No!"  she  said  fiercely. 

"Shall  you  see  him?"  asked  the  cousin 
quickly. 

"I'm  not  planning  it,  but  if  it  served  you 
let  dies 

"He's  no  special  friend  of  mine,"  she  replied 
coolly. 

"Poor  Roderiguez!"  he  sighed. 

In  Los  Angeles  he  set  himself  to  find  out  the 
whereabouts  of  the  Spanish-speaking  gentle- 
men. He  went  to  the  cafes  where  foreigners 
mostly  congregate,  and  the  second  night  he  saw 
him.  He  was  with  a  party  of  friends  and  they 
sat  near  enough  to  Dennis  so  that  he  could  hear 
their  conversation.  By  the  judicious  use  of  a 
newspaper  as  screen,  he  managed  not  to  be  seen 
by  Roderiguez. 

"Where  is  Amelita,  Roderiguez?"  asked  one  of 
the  party  in  Spanish. 

"She  is  on  a  visit,"  the  other  observed  casu- 
ally. 

Dennis  listened  attentively  but  nothing  more 
was  said  about  the  lady.  When  the  others  rose 
to  go,  he  followed.  He  trailed  Roderiguez  to  a 


MARRIED?  59 

small  hotel  frequented  by  foreigners.  He  saw 
him  ask  for  his  key  at  the  desk  and  go  to  his 
room. 

The  next  day  Dennis  presented  himself  at 
the  hotel  and  asked  for  Senor  Roderiguez.  He 
was  not  at  home,  said  the  clerk. 

"The  Senora  Roderiguez,  will  she  receive  me?" 

"Sefiora  Roderiguez  is  away  from  home." 

"She  is  called  Amelita?"  he  inquired. 

"Yes,  I  believe  so,"  the  clerk  answered. 

"Were  they  married  here  in  Los  Angeles?" 

"That  I  cannot  say." 

"Have  they  lived  here  long?" 

"He  has  been  here  a  year  or  more.  She 
came  three  months  ago." 

"You  do  not  know  where  I  can  write  to  her? 
I  am  an  old  friend.  I  have  not  seen  her  for 
some  years." 

"No,  I  do  not  know — but  Senor  Roderiguez 
could  tell  you,  no  doubt,  he  is  usually  in  at  five 
o'clock." 

"Good!     I  will  return,"  said  Dennis. 

He  looked  up  the  marriage  registry  for  the 
past  four  months  but  found  no  record  of  the 
Roderiguez  ceremony.  He  called  Roderiguez 
on  the  telephone  at  five  o'clock.  He  spoke 
in  Spanish. 


60  MARRIED? 

"Senor  Roderiguez?" 

"Si." 

"Is  your  wife  Amelita  Roderiguez?" 

"Si.     Who  is  this?" 

"She  is  ill  at  the  Padrasso  ranch " 

"No?     Ill— you  say?" 

"Si — she  needs  you." 

Then  he  rang  off.  He  was  satisfied  that  the 
connection  between  the  two  was  established. 

Dennis  went  back  to  Santa  Rosa  with  a  plan 
developing  in  his  head.  Arrived,  he  rode  at 
once  to  the  Padrasso  place,  and  asked  for  the 
senorita.  She  received  him  alone.  He  went 
straight  to  the  point. 

"Senorita,  do  you  believe  your  guest  to  be 
your  cousin?" 

She  fixed  him  with  her  far-seeing  old  eyes. 

"Dennis  Shawn,  will  you  marry  Amelita?" 
she  asked. 

"Marry  her?"  he  exclaimed,  startled  at  the 
idea. 

"She  is  not  my  cousin.  If  you  will  marry 
her  she  may  inherit " 

"My  dear  Senorita,  I  appreciate  your  kindness 
enormously,  but  the  lady  is  already  married, 
or  if  not,  she  ought  to  be!" 

"What  is  this?" 


MARRIED?  61 

'When  did  you  first  hear  of  her?" 

"Roderiguez  told  me  a  young  woman  named 
Padrasso  had  just  come  to  Los  Angeles,  looking 
for  her  relatives." 

"When  was  this?" 

"The  night  you  met  him  here  he  told  me." 

He  nodded. 

"The  woman  is  his  wife — or  his  mistress.  He 
is  an  employee  of  the  Great  Western  Railroad, 
I  feel  absolutely  certain.  He  has  sent  the 
woman  to  trap  you  into  a  will.  Have  you  signed 
anything?" 

She  grinned. 

"I  am  old — but  no  fool." 

"Has  she  asked  you  to  make  a  will  in  her 
favour?" 

"Yes — that  is  why  she  is  here" — simply. 

"But  you  refuse?" 

"Yes." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  your  ranch ?"" 
he  asked  her  point  blank. 

"Dennis  Shawn,  when  the  Great  Western 
Railroad  and  the  Livingstons  have  ceased  to 
war  over  my  ranch  and  keep  me  amused — then 
I  shall  die." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"What  will  you  do  about  this  woman ?'* 


62  MARRIED? 

"I  am  old.     You  get  rid  of  her." 

Amelita  came  into  the  room  at  the  moment. 

"Ah,  it  is  Mr.  Shawn!"  she  exclaimed  enthu- 
siastically. 

He  made  her  a  formal  bow. 

"Your  business  did  not  keep  you  long  away 
from  us." 

"No,  madame,  it  brought  me  back  to  you." 

"Yes?" 

"Your  husband  wants  you,  Senora  Roderi- 
guez.  You'd  better  go  back  to  him." 

"What  do  you  mean?  You  are  insolent!" 
she  cried. 

"How  long  will  it  take  you  to  pack  your 
things?" 

"  Cousin  Rita,  will  you  let  this  man  order  your 
guest,  your  cousin,  to  go?" 

The  senorita  could  not  hear  her. 

"There's  no  use.  I  know  the  whole  story. 
Also  some  facts  that  would  undoubtedly  em- 
barrass you,  if  told  at  L'Hotel  Continental." 

"You  dirty  spy!  You  can't  threaten  me! 
I'll  stay  right  where  I  am  and  get  my  rights. 
I  know  what  you  want.  I  know  why  you  hang 
around  this  old  woman!  You'll  not  get  the 
ranch — it's  mine  and  I'll  fight  for  it,"  she 
shouted,  becoming  more  and  more  excited. 


MARRIED?  63 

He  turned  to  the  old  lady,  who  looked  on, 
with  apparent  amusement. 

"Do  you  wish  her  to  go?"  he  demanded. 

She  grinned  and  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"You  see,  she  is  too  afraid  of  you  to  refuse. 
I  shall  stay  and  protect  her.  Oh,  you  have 
made  me  ill  with  your  suspicions  and  your 
threats." 

She  ran  out  of  the  room  into  her  bedroom. 
The  door  slammed  and  was  locked.  Dennis 
looked  inquiringly  at  the  old  woman.  She 
grinned  and  nodded.  He  followed  to  Amelita's 
door. 

"If  you  are  not  gone  by  this  time  to-morrow, 
you  will  go  with  a  policeman,"  he  said  quietly, 
at  her  keyhole. 

"Go  away!    I  am  ill — I  shall  go  to  bed." 

"Bed  will  not  protect  you,  madame.  This 
time  to-morrow  I  will  be  here." 

He  went  back  to  Senorita  Padrasso  and  re- 
ported. 

"No,"  she  said,  "send  her  now." 

"She's  gone  to  bed." 

"Get  her  up." 

He  returned  to  the  door. 

"The  seiiorita  desires  you  to  go  now." 

"I  cannot.     I  am  in  bed." 


64  MARRIED? 

"Get  up  and  put  on  your  clothes  at  once. 
Ten  minutes — then  I  come  in." 

He  telephoned  Santa  Rosa  for  Chuck  to  come 
with  a  motor  car  as  fast  as  possible.  Then  he 
went  back  to  the  door. 

"The  car  will  be  here  shortly  to  take  you  to 
the  station." 

"I  shall  not  get  up." 

Dennis  looked  at  his  watch.  The  old  lady 
was  standing  in  the  doorway  of  the  living  room 
now,  watching.  When  the  ten  minutes  were  up 
he  walked  out  into  the  patio  and  climbed  in 
Amelita's  window.  She  gave  an  awful  shriek, 
but  he  merely  opened  her  door.  He  called  to 
the  maid  who  served  Senorita  and  ordered  her 
to  dress  the  woman,  who  lay  in  the  bed.  It 
proved  to  be  not  so  easy. 

When  Chuck  arrived  he  found  Dennis  grimly 
holding  upright  the  handsome  Amelita,  with  her 
hands  crossed  behind  her  back,  while  the  senor- 
ita  and  the  maid  tried  to  complete  her  toilet. 

"  Get  her  belongings  into  that  trunk,  Chuck — 
we're  taking  the  lady  on  a  motor  trip." 

She  screamed,  she  bit,  she  scratched,  and 
kicked,  but  somehow  they  got  her  more  or 
less  dressed,  her  clothes  packed  and  strapped  to 
the  back  of  the  motor.  Then  they  carried  her 


MARRIED?  65 

out  and  put  her  in  the  back  seat,  where  Dennis 
was  forced  to  hold  her,  by  main  strength. 
Chuck  sat  in  front  to  run  the  car.  The  seiior- 
ita  watched  delightedly  from  the  veranda. 

"Senorita  Padrasso,  don't  you  want  to  kiss 
your  only  living  cousin  good-bye?"  Chuck 
asked  her. 

She  made  a  face  at  him. 

"Where  to,  sir?"  Chuck  inquired,  as  they 
started  off. 

"We'll  catch  the  train  for  Los  Angeles  at 
the  village,  or  if  the  lady  proves  too  trouble- 
some, we'll  drive  to  Los  Angeles  to  Police  Head- 
quarters," said  Dennis  pleasantly. 

Chuck  let  the  car  eat  up  the  road  toward  the 
village.  They  put  the  sullen  Sefiora  Roderiguez 
on  the  train.  Then  Dennis  sent  a  brief  wire  to 
Judge  Tracey: 

Counterfeit  heiress  on  her  way.    Everything  all  right. 

DENNIS  SHAWN. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  WEEK  or  so  after  the  visit  of  the  Spanish 
Amelita  with  Senorita  Padrasso  there 
began  to  appear  certain  signs  of  dissat- 
isfaction among  some  of  the  men  on  Santa  Rosa. 
Old  Pinto,  a  Mexican  Indian,  began  the  trouble. 
He  got  very  drunk  one  Saturday  night  and  began 
shooting  promiscuously,  whereupon  the  com- 
pany policeman  shut  him  up  in  the  guard  house. 
A  crowd  of  a  dozen  men  demanded  his  release, 
and  being  refused,  they  stormed  the  cabin 
which  served  as  jail.  Shawn  was  appealed  to, 
and  came  upon  the  scene  just  as  they  were  bat- 
tering down  the  door  to  release  the  Indian. 

"Here,  you  fellows,  what  are  you  doing?" 
shouted  Shawn. 

"Company  got  no  right  to  shut  Pinto  in 
guard  house,"  called  out  one  of  the  leaders. 

"The  company  has  the  right  to  shut  up  any- 
body who  gets  drunk  and  threatens  company 
property  or  the  lives  of  other  employees.  Come 
away  from  that  door!" 

"Pinto  got  right  to  get  drunk!" 

66 


MARRIED?  67 

"Shure  he's  got  a  right  to  if  he  can  pay  for 
the  liquor,  and  behave  himself  while  he's 
drunk.  But  he  didn't.  What's  the  matter 
with  you  fellows?  Do  you  want  crazy  men 
running  around  shooting  your  women  and 
children?  You  go  on  back  to  the  quarters  and 
act  like  men,"  urged  Shawn. 

There  was  no  determined  opposition.  Obvi- 
ously the  leaders,  whatever  their  motive,  had 
no  reply  ready,  so  the  men  drifted  off,  for  the 
most  part  rather  sheepishly,  and  the  incident 
would  have  passed  unnoticed,  had  it  not  been 
the  beginning  of  a  series  of  such  occurrences. 

A  few  days  later  the  trouble-makers  rose  from 
dinner,  carried  big  platters  of  beans  into  the 
kitchen,  dumped  them  on  the  table,  and  told  the 
Chink  Cook  that  if  he  served  them  beans  again 
inside  of  two  weeks  they'd  kill  him.  The  cook 
immediately  departed,  as  is  the  well-known 
way  of  Chinese  cooks  who  brook  no  criticism. 
Shawn  investigated  the  charge  of  the  mal- 
contents that  the  company  food  was  cheap 
and  poor.  He  urged  the  overseer,  an  Italian 
named  Caproni,  to  find  out  what  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  trouble  and  discharge  the  men 
who  were  disaffected.  He,  himself,  ate  at  the 
men's  mess,  talked  to  some  of  the  boys  who 


68  MARRIED? 

said  the  "grub  was  all  right."  He  urged  the 
new  cook  to  "go  easy  with  beans,"  and  the  camp 
settled  down  again — but  not  for  long. 

The  next  grievance  was  in  regard  to  their  pay 
envelopes.  Williams  usually  went  to  the  nearest 
town  Friday  night  and  brought  out  the  pay- 
roll Saturday  morning,  so  that  the  men  were 
paid  Saturday  afternoon.  Once  or  twice  it 
happened  that  Williams  had  other  ranch  busi- 
ness to  attend  to,  and  failed  to  get  back  until 
Saturday  evening,  about  the  time  of  the  men's 
supper.  They  worked  up  an  excitement  over 
this.  They  said  it  kept  them  from  going  to 
the  town  for  supper  and  the  night — the  com- 
pany had  no  right  to  hold  back  the  money — 
they  wanted  it  ready  and  waiting  for  them  when 
they  came  in  from  work. 

Williams  tried  to  explain  the  situation  to 
them,  to  assure  them  that  it  was  just  an  acci- 
dent and  not  a  custom,  but  they  grumbled  about 
it  and  were  not  to  be  appeased. 

At  dinner  that  night  Williams  described  all 
this  to  Dennis. 

"Somebody  is  making  trouble,  Dennis,"  he 
added. 

"Yes,  you're  right.  I  can't  put  my  eyes  on  it 
yet  but  I'll  find  out  who  is  at  the  bottom  of  this." 


MARRIED?  69 

"Good  work,  old  man!  I  hope  we  have  the 
devil  of  a  good  fight  before  we're  through  with 
it.  I'm  just  itching  for  a  mix-up  of  some  kind," 
cried  Chuck. 

"You  don't  think  it  is  up  to  the  Great  West- 
ern again,  do  you?"  Williams  inquired. 

"It  may  be.  But  I'm  hanged  if  I  can  see 
what  they've  got  to  gain  by  upsetting  our  men. 
After  all,  what  they  want  is  the  chance  to  get 
hold  of  the  Padrasso  acres.  I  wouldn't  put  any- 
thing beyond  them  to  accomplish  that,  but 
how  can  trouble  with  our  men  help  with  that?" 

"There's  a  nigger  in  the  woodpile  somewhere," 
said  Chuck.  "What  about  Caproni  and  old 
Pinto?  They're  always  chinning  around  to- 
gether." 

"I  think  Caproni  is  trustworthy.  He's  al- 
ways got  good  results  from  the  men.  He  gets 
along  with  them.  I  don't  suspect  him.  I  don't 
know  about  Pinto.  He's  a  glum  old  fool." 

"But  he  hath  a  daughter  who  is  neither  glum 
nor  yet  a  fool,"  said  Chuck,  kissing  his  fingers. 

"All  right.  Pump  her,  if  you  think  she 
knows  anything,"  laughed  Dennis. 

'  'Tis  yourself  is  the  apple  of  her  eye,  Dennis 
Shawn,"  retorted  the  boy. 

Shawn  stared  at  him. 


70  MARRIED? 

"You're  crazy!"  he  remarked  briefly. 

"Crazy  I  may  be,  but  I  know  'the  light  that 
lies  in  woman's  eyes,'  which  is  more  than  you  do, 
you  old  monk!" 

"You  turn  your  talents  upon  Senorita,  Chuck. 
It's  ridiculous  we  can't  any  of  us  find  out  what 
that  old  girl  intends  to  do  with  her  property." 

"The  chances  are  she'll  will  it  to  me,  and 
you'll  pay  a  pretty  price  for  it  then,  my  merry 
men,"  retorted  Chuck. 

"It's  very  pretty  of  you,  my  son,  to  con- 
found me  with  the  Livingston  estate!"  laughed 
Shawn. 

There  was  a  silence  in  which  they  smoked. 

"Strange  how  nearly  all  the  personal  feuds 
and  all  the  great  wars  of  the  world  have  had  lust 
for  land  at  the  bottom  of  them.  Wars  of  con- 
quest, wars  of  empire,  all  because  a  monarch  or  a 
nation  covets  land,"  mused  Williams. 

"It's  a  natural  human  longing  to  own  some 
acres  of  earth.  Every  man  has  it,"  Shawn  an- 
swered. 

"Man  is  born  on  the  farm,  goes  to  the  city,  and 
works  all  his  life  to  be  able  to  die  on  the  farm," 
quoted  Chuck.  "Not  for  me,  I'd  rather  die  on 
Broadway!" 

"I'd   rather  own  the  Santa  Rosa  than  the 


MARRIED?  71 

island  of  Manhattan  with  the  State  of  New 
York  thrown  in!"  declared  Shawn. 

"How  long  since  you've  been  there,  Dennis?" 

"Ten  years  or  so." 

"Oh,  well!  They've  fixed  the  island  up  some 
since  you  were  there.  You  might  like  it  better." 

"No  hope,  Chuck.  I  can't  stand  humans  all 
crowded  in  together  in  layers.  I  don't  under- 
stand city  folks,  I  guess — anyhow,  I  know  I 
don't  like  'em." 

"I  can't  see  that  they're  any  different  from 
any  other  *  folks',"  protested  Chuck.  "I  was 
brought  up  in  a  city.  Is  there  any  noticeable 
difference  between  Dennis  and  me,  Williams?" 

Williams  smiled. 

"Goon.     Spit  it  out!" 

"Well,  if  you  insist,  I  should  say  that  there 
is  considerable  difference  between  you  and 
Dennis." 

"Aw — you  don't  get  me,  Williams.  I  know 
Dennis  is  the  king  and  I'm  kind  of  a  court 
fool.  I  only  meant  we  think  alike  about  most 
things." 

"I  can't  agree  to  that.  You're  a  modern  so- 
phisticated brat  with  that  kind  of  a  mind,  and 
Dennis 

"Here,  here,  you  two — quit  it!     I  won't  be 


72  MARRIED? 

analyzed,  Williams.  Every  man  is  what  his  ex- 
perience and  his  past  have  made  him.  Chuck's 
no  exception — no  more  am  I — nor  you,  either,  if 
it  comes  to  that " 

"Yes,  let's  get  to  Williams.  Whatever  soured 
him  on  the  world  and  turned  him  into  a  book- 
worm, do  you  suppose?"  said  the  irrepressible. 

"Wine,  women,  and  song,  my  son,  what  else?'* 
said  the  dignified  Williams,  woman-hater  and 
teetotaller. 

"Let's  get  off  this  personal  vein,"  said  Dennis, 
quick  to  scent  trouble. 

"If  you  had  your  choice  out  of  the  whole 
world,  where  would  you  two  fellows  rather  be 
to-night?"  inquired  Chuck. 

"I'd  rather  be  sitting  in  the  loggia  at  Santa 
Rosa  ranch,"  replied  Dennis  promptly. 

"I'd  rather  be  finishing  a  pipe  preparatory  to 
going  indoors  to  read  a  critical  study  of  modern 
poetry,"  said  Williams. 

"Gosh!  You're  about  as  romantic  as  a 
couple  of  gouty  old  goats!"  exploded  Chuck. 

"Fire  away — Chuck,  where  would  you  rather 
be?"  smiled  Dennis. 

"Oh,  sitting  on  my  thumb!"  retorted  Chuck 
crossly,  and  wandered  away  to  the  house. 

"The  kid  is  lonesome,"  remarked  Williams. 


MARRIED?  73 

"Yes — restless  again.  Doesn't  know  what  he 
wants." 

Presently  they  heard  him  at  the  piano.  Then 
his  young,  ardent  voice  floated  out  to  them: 

"When  I  awake — 
//  there  be  an  awaking 
I'll  know  what  lulled  me  to  sleep — 
The  touch  of  your  lips  on  my  mouth." 

The  two  men  sat  on  in  the  patio  smoking, 
each  stirred  by  the  boy's  restless  spirit.  Williams 
turned  his  memory  away  from  his  past  and 
faced  his  barren  future.  Dennis  let  his  thoughts 
wander  toward  a  sort  of  mythical  woman — 
who  might  be  for  him.  Would  her  lips  ever 
call  him  from  death  as  they  did  the  lover  in 
the  song?  Where  was  she  to-night,  this  pre- 
destined woman?  Did  she  dream  of  him?  He 
looked  about  the  courtyard  with  its  vine- 
covered  walls — the  light  streaming  from  the 
kitchen  on  one  side  and  from  the  room  where 
Chuck  was  singing.  Overhead  the  sky  was 
pierced  with  millions  of  points  of  light.  Would 
she  love  Santa  Rosa  as  he  did?  He  sighed 
deeply. 

"You  said  it,"  remarked  the  other  man,  rising. 
"After  all,  the  modern  poets  are  saner — they 
write  about  street  cars  and  machine  shops  and 


74  MARRIED? 

such  things.  Here  are  two  volumes — you'd 
better  try  one." 

Dennis  laughed. 

"Much  obliged.  Think  I'll  go  for  a  ride  and 
stretch  my  legs." 

The  music  indoors  stopped. 

"Hi,  there,  you  Chuck — come  for  a  ride," 
called  Dennis. 

"You're  on,"  came  the  answer. 

Dennis  went  on  down  toward  the  stables. 
He  almost  collided  with  a  figure  which  came 
suddenly  out  of  some  underbrush. 

"Who's  there?"  he  challenged. 

"Me — Kate "  came  the  answer. 

"Oh — good  evening — Kate." 

"Evening.     Don't  go  walk  alone,"  she  said. 

"Why  not?" 

"Me — I  tell  you — don't  go  walk  alone." 

"I'm  not  afraid,"  he  laughed.  "Besides,  I'm 
going  to  ride,  and  my  horse  will  protect  me." 

Chuck  came  whistling  along  toward  them. 

"Chuck— hegoride?"said Kate.  "Ah— good." 

"He'll  take  care  of  me,  Kate,"  Dennis  as- 
sured her. 

He  saw  her  white  teeth  shine  in  the  darkness. 
She  was  gone,  as  she  came,  before  Chuck 
caught  up. 


MARRIED?  75 

They  saddled  their  horses  and  rode  off  cross 
country,  the  ponies  picking  their  way  carefully. 
As  they  passed  the  quarters,  Dennis  commented 
on  the  quiet. 

"Must  be  a  boxing  match  or  something 
doing." 

They  rode  in  silence  for  a  while.  The  quiet 
hills  rolled  away  to  the  sky,  as  if  they  supported 
the  deep  blue,  gold-shot  tapestry.  The  quiet 
was  as  palpable  as  noise.  They  trotted  along 
side  by  side.  Presently  they  came  to  the 
Padrasso  estate  and  rode  up  near  enough 
to  the  house  to  speak  with  the  guards  Dennis 
had  established  there.  There  was  only  one 
light  in  the  ranch  house,  from  an  upstairs 
room. 

"The  senorita  has  retired,  alas!"  said  Chuck. 
"Not  a  girl  around  here  for  me  to  woo." 

"I  wonder  what's  become  of  that  old  Spanish 
Fandango  Roderiguez  we  chased  off  the  place 
that  night,"  laughed  Dennis. 

"We'll  met  him  again,  don't  you  worry." 

"Worry  is  not  in  my  line,  my  boy." 

They  ran  their  horses  along  a  level  stretch 
and  then  headed  up  over  the  hills,  cross  country 
toward  their  own  ranch.  As  they  descended 
a  hill  they  saw  a  fire. 


76  MARRIED? 

"What's  that?"  demanded  Dennis. 

It  was  a  remote  spot,  out  of  the  way  of  any 
chance  passerby.  There  was  a  bonfire  burning 
and  the  flames  threw  into  high  light  a  man 
standing  and  what  looked  like  many  men  seated 
about. 

At  a  gesture  from  Dennis  they  stopped  and 
dismounted.  At  the  sudden  memory  of  Kate's 
warning,  he  looked  at  his  revolver,  to  see  that 
it  was  loaded,  before  he  led  the  way  toward  the 
men  about  the  fire.  When  they  came  near 
enough  to  hear  what  the  speaker  was  saying, 
they  crouched  low  and  listened. 

The  man  who  was  speaking  was  none  other 
than  the  senorita's  caller  whom  they  had 
escorted  off  the  ranch.  He  told  the  men  that 
when  the  Senorita  Padrasso  died,  her  five 
thousand  acres  in  the  heart  of  the  Santa  Rosa 
would  become  the  property  of  the  Great  Western 
Railroad.  That  big  wages  would  be  paid  by 
that  company,  fine  quarters  put  up  for  the 
men,  a  movie  theatre  would  be  built  there,  a 
motor  bus  would  run  to  town  Saturday  nights. 
The  Santa  Rosa  men  would  be  given  the  first 
chance  at  the  jobs  through  Caproni,  who  was 
in  the  pay  of  the  Great  Western  at  this  moment. 
He  would  be  notified  the  moment  the  Great 


MARRIED?  77 

Western  took  possession,  and  he  would  be 
authorized  to  begin  to  hire  the  men. 

In  the  meantime,  he  told  them,  it  would  be 
advisable  to  get  rid  of  Dennis  Shawn.  He  had 
been  superintendent  at  Santa  Rosa  so  long 
that  he  identified  the  Livingston  estate  interests 
with  his  own.  A  less  conscientious  manager 
would  be  easier  to  handle  when  the  change 
came.  He  had  such  a  man  in  mind.  It  might 
even  be  well  to  start  a  series  of  threats  against 
Shawn  to  try  to  scare  him  off. 

Here  Dennis  made  an  impulsive  move,  and 
only  Chuck's  quick  clutch  on  his  arm  kept  him 
quiet. 

Old  Pinto  rose. 

"Me,  I  will  tie  Shawn  on  a  horse — with 
hees  face  to  the  tail,  an'  run  him  off  the  ranch 
— you  say  so?" 

"No,"  Caproni  answered.  "When  I  want 
him  run  off  I'll  do  it  myself.  You  keep  out 
of  this." 

Various  suggestions  were  made  as  to  how 
best  to  terrify  Shawn.  One  man  volunteered 
the  information  that  you  might  as  well  try  to 
frighten  the  devil — Shawn  was  Irish  and  afraid 
of  nothing. 

Dennis  chuckled  at  that. 


78  MARRIED? 

They  finally  decided  to  give  Dennis  a  warning. 
A  watch  was  to  be  kept  and  when  he  was  found 
alone  the  next  night,  he  was  to  be  summoned 
to  quarters,  as  if  in  an  emergency.  On  the 
way  there  he  was  to  be  seized  and  carried  to  a 
certain  abandoned  cabin,  where  masked  men 
would  await  him.  They  would  give  him  his 
choice  of  going  to  Los  Angeles  of  his  own  free 
will  or  going  over  the  mountains  on  foot,  with 
a  guard. 

"You'll  have  to  handle  that  pup  that  always 
follows  him,"  said  the  speaker  who  had  depre- 
cated Shawn's  fears. 

"Well,  that  won't  take  a  dozen  men,"  sneered 
the  Spanish-speaking  gentleman. 

This  time  it  was  Dennis  who  clapped  a  hand 
on  the  other's  mouth.  He  pulled  Chuck  back 
and  up  the  hills  to  where  the  horses  were. 
Silently  they  mounted  and  rode  up  the  way 
they  had  come.  When  it  was  safe  to  speak, 
Dennis  said  in  a  soft  voice: 

"Chuck,  me  boy,  there's  fun  ahead!  Praise 
be,  we  can  fight  that  fool  in  the  open  now." 

"What'll  you  do  to-morrow  night?" 

"Do,  me  child — God  knows  what  I'll  do! 
But  the  important  thing  is  I'll  be  there!"  lilted 
Shawn. 


MARRIED?  79 

'*  And  Dennis  was  there. 
With  his  pup  at  his  heels," 

sang  Chuck  softly. 

With  a  laugh  of  sheer  joy  they  galloped  off 
to  the  ranch. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  announcement  was  made  of  the 
engagement  of  Marcia  Livingston  to 
Clarke  Jessup,  and  the  papers  had  pages 
of  the  history  of  the  two  famous  families  and 
of  the  vast  wealth  the  marriage  would  combine. 
There  were  pictures  and  drawings  and  snapshots 
of  the  happy  couple,  alone  and  together.  The 
Toy  Theatre  came  in  for  much  advertisement, 
and  finally  Marcia  refused  to  look  at  a  paper, 
daily  or  weekly,  she  was  so  bored  with  the  pub- 
licity they  were  exposed  to. 

"Why  do  you  bother,  old  girl?  I  never  read 
the  filthy  sheets!"  Clarke  said  when  she  com- 
plained of  it  to  him. 

There  began  interminable  dinners  and  teas 
in  honour  of  the  engagement,  and  night  after 
night  Clarke  brought  her  home  at  midnight, 
dutifully  kissed  her  good-night,  and  went  his 
way.  For  about  three  weeks  Marcia  bore  the 
celebration  like  a  lady,  and  then  she  re- 
volted. She  sent  hurried  excuses  to  her  host- 
esses, and  a  wire  to  Clarke,  saying  she  had 

80 


MARRIED?  81 

been  called  away  and  would  send  an  address 
later. 

Whereupon  she  retired  in  solitary  state  to 
the  upper  floors  of  her  house,  gave  strict  orders 
to  the  servants  that  no  one  was  to  be  admitted 
except  Mary  Jane  Paul,  that  they  were  to 
say  to  all  inquiries  that  Miss  Livingston  was 
out  of  town. 

She  summoned  Miss  Paul  by  telephone. 

"I  can't  come  to-day,  Marcia,  we've  got  a 
dress  rehearsal  at  the  Toy  Theatre  and  I've 
got  one  million  things  to  do  at  the  school." 

"You'd  better  come,"  her  employer  threat- 
ened darkly. 

"Is  anything  the  matter?" 

"There  is!" 

"Serious?" 

"Very." 

"All  right,  I'll  come." 

Some  hours  later  Miss  Paul  was  ushered  in. 
She  supposed  that  the  house,  closed  and  shut- 
tered, presaged  Marcia's  departure  to  Europe, 
or  her  country  place.  It  was  a  hot  day  and 
the  dark,  cool  halls  were  soothing  after  the 
glare  outside.  On  a  chaise-longue  in  her  charm- 
ing sitting  room  lay  Marcia,  with  a  book  face 
down  on  her  lap.  An  electric  fan  breezed  be- 


82  MARRIED? 

side  her — a  carafe,  frosted  with  chilled  drink 
of  some  kind,  stood  in  reach  of  her  hand. 

She  greeted  Mary  Jane. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  her  guest  briskly. 
"Are  you  ill?" 

"Take  off  your  hat  and  have  some  of  that 
cool  stuff  to  drink.  You  may  as  well  make 
yourself  comfortable  and  relax,  because  you 
are  a  prisoner." 

Miss  Paul  laughed,  obeyed,  and  inquired: 

' '  What's  all  this  foolishness  ?  Prisoner  ?  Have 
you  committed  a  crime,  Marcia?" 

"No  such  luck.  I'm  in  hiding,  that's  all, 
and  I'm  not  going  to  do  it  alone." 

"But  you  have  to  hide  from  somebody? 
Who  is  it?" 

Miss  Paul  took  a  large  chair,  put  her  feet  up 
on  a  footstool,  and  sipped  her  drink  apprecia- 
tively. Marcia  looked  at  her,  but  made  no 
answer. 

"Is  it  your  lover?"  she  demanded. 

"My  what?"  said  Marcia.  "Oh,  do  you 
mean  Clarke?" 

She  laughed  spontaneously  at  the  idea  of  his 
being  a  lover. 

"Naturally  I  mean  Clarke.  You're  going  to 
marry  him,  aren't  you?  It's  natural  to  suppose 


MARRIED?  83 

he  is  your  lover,  isn't  it?"  demanded  Miss 
Paul,  somewhat  tartly. 

"I  suppose  it  is"  —with  a  sigh. 

"Then  you  are  hiding  from  him." 

"Ye-es — from  him  and  those  everlasting  din- 
ners where  we  meet  the  same  people  and  all  say 
the  same  things : 

"Look  here,  Marcia,  let's  get  down  to  truth 
about  this  business.  Are  you  in  love  with  this 
man?" 

"N— no." 

"You  certainly  aren't  marrying  him  for 
money  or  position!" 

"No." 

"Then  why  in  the  name  of  sense  did  you  get 
engaged  to  him?" 

"Well,  it  was  a  rainy  Sunday  and  we  both 
were  blue,  and  lonesome " 

Mary  Jane  stared  at  her  a  moment  and  then  she 
threw  back  her  head  and  shouted  with  laughter. 
Marcia  watched  her,  interested,  but  not  amused. 

"Of  all  the  ridiculous  things!  It  was  just  a 
sort  of  joke,  then,  was  it?" 

"No.  Clarke  has  been  asking  me  to  marry 
him  once  or  twice  a  year  for  years.  I  don't 
see  what  difference  it  makes  whether  I  marry 
him  or  not — do  you?" 


84  MARRIED? 

"If  you  don't  love  him,  I  should  say  it  made 
considerable  difference.  Have  you  ever  loved 
any  man,  Marcia?" 

"No — not  exactly.  I  loved  a  man  on  a 
steamer  once,  but  I  didn't  meet  him." 

"I'm  serious.  If  you  don't  love  this  man, 
it  is  a  sin  for  you  to  go  on  with  this,"  Mary 
Jane  said  firmly. 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  I'm  to  do,  then? 
I've  done  everything  I  can  think  of  and  it  all 
bores  me.  I've  been  everywhere  in  the  world, 
and  there's  nothing  left  but  to  marry " 

"Yes — but  you  don't  need  to  marry  this 
man." 

"Well,  he  isn't  brilliant  perhaps,  but  he's 
average  of  our  class " 

"Average  nothing!  He  makes  me  think  of 
Tolstoi's  'Living  Corpse.'  He  never  had  a 
thrill  in  his  life — he's  simply  dead.  Why, 
I'd  rather  marry  a  street  sweeper!" 

"Maybe  I  would — but  I  don't  know  any." 

"This  cursed  money!"  cried  Mary.  "If  you 
would  only  have  terrible  reverses  and  lose  it — 
then  you'd  have  a  chance!" 

"Do  you  think  it's  the  money,  Mary  Jane? 
Isn't  it  our  times  ?  Hasn't  the  war  taken  the  zest 
out  of  living?  Hasn't  dry  rot  set  in,  in  my  class ?  " 


MARRIED?  85 

"Perhaps — and  you  don't  use  any  brains 
to  save  yourselves.  You  marry  and  intermarry, 
you  rich,  just  like  royal  families,  with  the  same 
results.  You  go  out  and  marry  the  man  with  a 
hoe  and  have  some  sturdy  peasant  babies 

"You  keep  on  mentioning  these  interesting 
gentlemen,  the  street  sweeper  and  the  man  with 
the  hoe,  but  what  good  does  that  do  me?  Can 
I  go  and  say — 'Dear  sir,  I  am  a  very  rich  young 
woman  who  wants  strong  peasant  babies.  Will 
you  oblige  me  by  marrying  me  and  acting  as 
the  other  parent?" 

Mary  Jane  sighed. 

"Of  course,  in  a  way,  that  nonsense  is  true. 
But  you  could  meet  men  outside  this  country- 
club,  polo-playing  set,  if  you  made  up  your 
mind  to." 

"How?" 

"Go  and  live  simply,  in  some  place  where  you 
aren't  known." 

"My  dear  Mary  Jane,  without  undue  boasting 
I  may  remind  you  that  my  face  has  ornamented 
the  public  prints  of  the  country  to  the  exclusion 
of  even  moving-picture  actresses  for  four  weeks. 
I'm  at  least  as  well  known  as  Mary  Pickford." 

Again  Mary  Jane  sighed. 

"You  won't  work " 


86  MARRIED? 

"No,  I  won't.  I  hate  it.  If  I  could  bear 
the  thought  of  work  I'd  go  to  your  artists'  colony 
and  get  them  to  take  me  in — but  I  can't.  I 
want  to  be  waited  on — I  want  my  breakfast  in 
bed.  I  want  all  the  tiresome  details  of  living 
looked  after  by  somebody  else " 

"And  there  you  are !   It's  a  vicious  circle " 

"Leading  back  to  Clarke  Jessup?" 

Mary  Jane  made  no  answer. 

"Doesn't  it?" 

"Why  have  you  run  away  if  you  intend  to 
marry  him?" 

"Well — I  suppose  when  we're  married  I'll 
face  the  fact  that  he  bores  me  as  part  of  my 
life " 

"But  you  won't!  You've  never  put  up 
with  being  bored  in  your  life.  You  have  al- 
ways bolted.  You've  had  no  discipline.  You're 
selfish  and  pampered  and  you'll  bolt  again,  but 

this  time  with  the  scandal  of  divorce  as  the 
price " 

''You're  a  cheerful  cell-mate.  I  didn't  bring 
you  here  to  paint  a  roseate  picture  like  that " 

"What  did  you  bring  me  for?" 

"To— to- " 

Suddenly  two  large  tears  began  a  slow  descent 
on  the  girl's  cheeks. 


MARRIED?  87 

"Don't  mind  about  them — it's  heat  and 
nerves  and  everything,"  she  said,  scorning  to 
wipe  the  offending  eyes. 

"Sorry  I  was  so  brutal — but  my  main  use  to 
you,  Marcia,  is  that  I'm  the  sole  and  only  person 
who  tells  you  the  truth  about  yourself." 

"You  do — you  certainly  do!" 

"You  have  to  admit,  also,  that  I  know  your 
true  worth  better  than  anybody  else." 

"Have  I  a  true  worth,  Mary  Jane?" 

"I  couldn't  bother  with  you  if  you  hadn't. 
I'm  really  very  fond  of  you,  you  know." 

"So  far  as  I'm  aware,  you're  the  only  true 
friend  I've  got." 

"How  long  do  you  propose  to  stay  up  here  in 
retreat?" 

"A  week  or  two.  You'd  better  telephone  the 
office  that  you've  gone  on  a  vacation." 

"Can't  be  done.  I'll  stay  here  nights,  if  you 
like.  I  may  even  manage  a  half  day  now  and 
then,  but  I  wouldn't  give  up  being  in  on  these 
last  touches  at  the  school  for  anything,"  said 
Mary  Jane  decisively. 

Marcia  begged  and  cajoled  and  threatened, 
but  in  vain.  So  it  was  arranged  that  Mary 
Jane  was  to  take  off  all  the  time  she  could  from 
Miss  Livingston's  affairs,  to  spend  it  in  Miss 


88  MARRIED? 

Livingston's  company.  Every  morning  the 
working  woman  set  out  cheerfully  for  her  job, 
while  her  employer  killed  time  with  a  late 
breakfast  and  improvised  tasks. 

At  night  they  dined  in  Marcia's  sitting  room, 
and  about  ten  o'clock  they  would  set  out  on 
foot  to  walk  uptown  for  some  exercise,  or  they 
would  get  in  a  little  racing  car  and  Marcia 
would  drive  them  out  into  the  country.  Once 
when  the  girl  was  especially  restless  they  drove 
all  night,  watched  the  sun  come  up,  and  went  to 
bed  in  the  broad  daylight. 

They  talked  the  whole  world  round  in  their 
many  hours  together,  but  by  mutual  instinct 
they  avoided  the  subject  of  Marcia's  engage- 
ment. 

Mary  Jane  Paul  thought  about  it  a  great  deal. 
It  seemed  to  her  a  grievous  mistake,  and  yet 
given  the  situation,  the  girl's  training  or  lack 
of  it,  and  her  money,  it  seemed  hideously 
inevitable.  This  man  or  that,  it  made  little 
difference  perhaps,  if  he  must  be  chosen  from 
this  particular  group.  So  absorbed  did  she 
become  in  Marcia's  problem  that  she  went 
along  the  streets  looking  for  the  kind  of  man 
she  felt  the  girl  should  marry.  She  began  to 
understand,  in  these  days  they  spent  together, 


MARRIED?  89 

that  the  new  school  could  not  fill  her  life  any 
more  than  the  Toy  Theatre  had — that  some- 
thing personal,  vital,  dynamic  must  come  to  her, 
if  she  was  to  be  saved.  Otherwise,  one  more 
beautiful,  feverish,  unsatisfied  woman  would  be 
be  added  to  the  list  of  rich  young  matrons. 

"Mary  Jane,  when  do  you  expect  to  put  the 
finishing  touches  to  the  school?"  Marcia  asked 
her  one  night. 

"The  day  we  open,"  the  other  smiled. 

"What  is  the  date  on  which  your  outrageous 
conscience  will  allow  you  to  leave  the  building — 
to  put  it  exactly?" 

"I  don't  know.     Why?" 

"Is  there  any  way  to  find  out?" 

"I  suppose  I  might — approximately.     Why?" 

"I'll  tell  you  why  when  you  find  out,"  teased 
Marcia. 

The  next  night  she  gave  an  approximate  date. 

"Good!  The  Saturday  after  that  you  and  I 
are  going  to  sail  for  Europe." 

"Marcia,  I  can't  afford  any  such  extrava- 
gance," interrupted  the  other. 

"I  was  taught  that  it  was  rude  to  interrupt! 
You  will  go,  Miss  Paul,  as  manager  of  the  new 
school  to  investigate  similar  institutions  on  the 
continent.  It  will  be  purely  a  business  trip 


90  MARRIED? 

and,  as  such,  expenses  will  be  paid  by  your  em- 
ployer." 

"Marcia,  you  old  dear,  you're  just  making 
this  an  excuse " 

"I'm  making  a  business  proposition,  Miss 
Paul." 

"I  accept  it  with  hallelujahs,  Miss  Livings- 
ton." 

"My  idea  is  to  stay  in  my  retreat  until  we 
sail.  Then  I'll  write  from  the  other  side  as  if 
we'd  been  there  all  the  time." 

"Marcia,  are  you  being  quite  fair  to  Mr. 
Jessup?" 

"It  will  be  fairer  to  him,  in  the  end,  for  me 
not  to  see  much  of  him  until  I'm  married 
to  him,  Mary  Jane." 

"It's  your  affair,  of  course." 

So  it  was  decided  upon,  and  the  plans  made. 
They  sailed  the  first  of  August  by  the  southern 
route  to  France.  The  war  had  crippled  artistic 
endeavour,  of  course,  for  five  years,  but  there 
were  still  some  interesting  survivals,  and  one 
or  two  modern  efforts  at  a  training  that  would 
develop  the  artist  of  the  stage  in  an  all-round 
way.  For  a  month  or  so  they  devoted  them- 
selves to  these  investigations,  and  then  Marcia 
insisted  on  a  play  time.  Mary  Jane  yearned 


MARRIED?  91 

for  mountains,  so  they  went  into  Switzerland 
for  a  while.  Then  back  to  France,  where  they 
rented  a  motor  and  drifted  about  in  the  south, 
keeping  clear  of  the  region  of  battlefields. 

It  was  Mary  Jane's  first  trip  to  Europe  and 
she  was  in  a  state  of  delight  all  the  time.  On 
the  steamer  going  over  she  warned  Marcia 
that  she  intended  to  search  Europe  for  a  proper 
husband  for  her,  and  it  was  her  deadly  intention 
to  come  between  Marcia  and  her  fiance,  if 
it  could  be  done.  This  idea  had  provided  them 
with  endless  amusement  on  their  travels.  They 
were  always  discussing  the  marital  possibilities 
of  men  wherever  they  met  them.  On  the 
motor  trip,  Marcia  would  stop  the  car,  summon 
a  likely  looking  French  peasant  at  work  in  the 
fields,  and  after  asking  him  some  unnecessary 
directions,  she  would  turn  to  Mary  Jane  and 
say: 

"Would  he  do?     Shall  we  capture  him?" 

Then  with  shrieks  of  laughter  they  would 
leave  the  bewildered  farmer  by  the  roadside, 
shaking  his  head  with  a  muttered,  "Les  bettises 
Americains!  " 

Marcia  repeatedly  stated  that  it  was  her  most 
successful  trip,  that  she  was  like  a  prisoner 
out  on  parole,  and  that  she  was  having  the 


92  MARRIED? 

time  of  her  life,  before  the  doors  finally  clanged 
to  behind  her. 

"Cheerful  view  of  marriage!"  commented 
Mary  Jane. 

"I  believe  you're  quite  sentimental  about 
marriage,  Mary  Jane,"  Marcia  accused  her. 

"I  am — quite." 

In  late  September  they  turned  their  faces 
homeward,  because  the  school  was  to  open  on 
October  15th  and  there  were  many  preliminaries 
for  Mary  Jane  to  arrange. 

"Well,"  said  she  as  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
Statue  of  Liberty  in  New  York  harbour,  "it 
has  been  a  perfect  trip,  all  but  the  husband. 
Who  would  have  thought  that  it  was  so  difficult 
to  find  just  a  plain,  common  garden  variety  of 
man?" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DENNIS  and  Chuck  burst  in  upon  Wil- 
liams, placidly  reading  the  modern  poets. 
"Chuck  the  poet,  old  top,  we've 
got  a  mountain  feud  on  our  hands!"  cried  the 
boy  excitedly. 

Williams  looked  up  and  asked  in  his  serious 
way: 

"What  are  you  raving  about,  Chuck?" 

"While  you've  been  reading  your  bally  poets, 
Denny  and  I  have  been  to  a  meeting  of  the 
Ku-Klux  Klan,  where  we  learned,  happily,  that 
we  were  to  be  the  favoured  objects  of  their  im- 
mediate attention!" 

Williams  shook  his  head  and  Dennis  laughed. 

"English  it  for  me,  Dennis,"  he  urged. 

Dennis  told  him  the  story  of  their  adventure. 
He  listened  intently,  asking  a  question  now  and 
then  or  making  some  comment. 

"Were  you  near  enough  to  identify  the 
men?" 

"I  saw  a  good  many  faces,"  Dennis  answered, 
and  named  possibly  a  dozen  men. 

93 


94  MARRIED? 

"You  say  this  agent  deliberately  announced 
Caproni  to  be  a  spy?" 

"He  did!"  quoth  Chuck.  "I  hope  in  the 
final  pickings  I  get  Caproni!" 

Williams  turned  an  anxious  face  to  Shawn. 

"This  is  certainly  serious,  Dennis.  What 
do  you  propose  to  do?" 

"I  propose  to  be  kidnapped,"  smiled  the 
Irishman,  lighting  his  pipe. 

"That  is  folly.     They  might  kill  you." 

"Not  on  your  life." 

"I'm  in  this,  too.  I'm  referred  to  as  'the 
pup'  and  I'm  scheduled  for  capture,"  boasted 
Chuck. 

"You  cannot  count  on  their  carrying  out  the 
plan  exactly,  Dennis.  A  lot  of  lawless  dagoes 
and  hunkies,  masked  and  out  of  hand — they 
might  carry  you  two  fellows  up  in  the  mountains 
and  knife  you,"  Williams  protested. 

"Or  hold  us  for  ransom!  By  gracious! — I 
feel  like  somebody  at  last.  Beautiful  blond 
boy  carried  to  mountains  by  banditti  and 
held  for  ransom!" 

"Shut  up,  Chuck,  and  let  me  think,"  mur- 
mured Dennis. 

Dennis  wandered  out  to  the  veranda. 

"Williams,   my  dear,   you'd   better  join   us 


MARRIED?  95 

to-morrow  night.  Do  noble  deeds — not  dream 
them  all  day  long!  It  may  be  some  party!" 
Chuck  teased  the  older  man. 

"It  is  sometimes  dangerous  to  be  as  funny 
as  you  can  be,  English,"  he  replied  with  ominous 
calm. 

"Help!"  howled  Chuck,  hurrying  off  to  bed. 

The  next  morning  when  Dennis  strolled  out 
to  breakfast  he  came  upon  Harry  Williams 
cleaning  a  revolver.  Wong  crossed  the  patio, 
gazed  at  the  unwonted  sight,  and  smiled  before 
he  slipped  to  the  kitchen.  Williams  never 
looked  up — he  was  absorbed  in  the  work. 

"Well,  old  man,  going  to  war?"  laughed 
Dennis. 

"I'm  in  on  this  fight,  Dennis,"  he  answered. 

"Can  you  shoot?"  Shawn  asked  him  curi- 
ously. 

"You  bet  your  life  I  can  shoot!  What  do 
you  take  me  for — a  mollycoddle?  "  cried  Williams, 
with  the  first  show  of  heat  he  had  ever  exhibited 
to  Shawn. 

"I  do  not,"  said  he.  "We'll  certainly  need 
you,  Williams." 

Chuck  came  out  of  the  house. 

"Holy  Christian  fathers!"  he  cried.  "Be 
careful  with  that  gun,  Williams!" 


96  MARRIED? 

"Shut  up!"  ordered  Williams.  "I'm  in  on 
this  party,  and  I  don't  want  any  more  talk 
from  you." 

Chuck  stared. 

"Gosh,  you're  a  regular  feller,"  he  said. 
"Let's  eat." 

After  breakfast  Dennis  said: 

"I've  got  an  idea.  You  fellows  come  along 
with  me  this  morning,  will  you?  We'll  talk 
as  we  ride." 

Later  they  set  off.  Chuck  watched  Williams 
out  of  the  corner  of  his  eyes,  and  saw  that  he  was 
no  stranger  to  a  horse,  although  he  had  always 
refused  to  ride.  He  kept  his  jocular  comments 
to  himself,  however,  for  there  was  a  gleam  in 
Williams's  eye  that  boded  ill  for  the  humorist. 

Dennis  led  them  off  toward  the  sawmill. 

"These  fellows  at  the  mill  are  loyal  to  us,  I 
think.  I'm  dead  sure  of  McKim,  the  foreman. 
I  thought  we'd  organize  a  little  masked  ball 
of  our  own,  just  to  provide  dancing  partners 
for  the  kidnappers,"  he  explained. 

"Whoopee!"  yelled  Chuck  ecstatically. 

"I'll  get  McKim  to  call  out  some  men  who 
can  fight  and  who  can  be  relied  on,  and  we'll 
just  tell  them  the  situation." 

"Good  idea,"  commented  Williams. 


MARRIED?  97 

"While  Chuck  and  I  are  getting  oiirselves 
kidnapped,  you'll  captain  these  other  fellows, 
Williams,  and  be  ready  for  a  rescue." 

"I'll  be  there  "—quietly. 

"  'Harry  was  there  with  his  hair  in  a  braid,' ' 
sang    Chuck.      '  'Pologize    old    man,    but    I'm 
so  full  of  joy  I'm  not  responsible  for  what  I 
say.     Nobody  must  take  offence." 

Williams  laughed. 

They  rode  up  the  hill  and  Chuck  went  in 
search  of  McKim.  He  was  a  thickset  little 
Irishman,  gentle  as  a  kitten  most  of  the  time 
and  ready  to  fight  all  comers  when  he  was  mad. 
He  was  a  favourite  with  the  men,  just  as  Shawn 
was. 

"Good  mornin',  Mr.  Shawn,"  he  said,  grinning 
with  pleasure.  He  nodded  to  Williams.  "Are 
ye  coming  in,  sor?" 

This  because  Dennis  was  dismounting,  Wil- 
liams following  suit. 

"Look  here,  McKim,  have  ye  got  any  trouble 
makers  down  here  among  your  men?" 

"Not  so's  ye'd  notice,"  grinned  McKim. 

"The  men  are  satisfied — they're  loyal  to  the 
company?" 

"They  are — or  they  quit!" 

"We've  got  the  devil  of  a  mess  up  at  the  other 


98  MARRIED? 

camp.  The  Great  Western  wants  to  grab 
the  Padrasso  Ranch,  when  the  sefiorita  dies, 
and  they're  laying  their  plans  for  it  now. 
They've  got  a  spy  working  our  men  up,  and  last 
night  English  and  I  listened  in  on  a  plan  to  get 
rid  of  me  as  superintendent  and  manager  of 
Santa  Rosa " 

"The !"  burst  out  McKim. 

"They 're  going  to  kidnap  me  to-night  and  scare 
the  life  out  of  me  so  I'll  leave  the  ranch " 

"Of  all  the !" 

"Exactly!  Well,  we  thought  we'd  give  them 
a  run  for  their  money.  You  haven't  got  a 
dozen  fellows  or  so  who  can  fight,  have  you?" 

"Have  I?    Wait  wan  minute,  Mr.  Shawn." 

McKim  bolted  into  the  mill  so  fast  that  his 
bowlegs  fairly  twinkled.  The  three  men  smiled. 
In  ten  minutes  he  was  back  with  fifteen  huskies, 
who  looked  a  little  anxious  at  being  summoned 
by  the  manager. 

:'You  go  far  to  pick  a  better  bunch  than  this, 
Mr.  Shawn,"  said  McKim. 

Dennis  nodded. 

"Boys,  I  want  some  help  to-night  to  wind  up 
some  dirty  business.  We've  got  some  sneaks 
up  at  the  other  camp  who  are  going  to  try  to 
run  me  off  the  ranch." 


MARRIED?  99 

"For  the  love  o'  Mike!"  said  one  of  the  men 
simply. 

"I  guess  I'll  stick  to  Santa  Rosa  for  a  while. 
The  idea  is  this :  Chuck  and  I  are  to  be  grabbed 
to-night  and  carried  off  to  that  cabin  up  in  the 
hills  we  use  for  a  hunting  camp " 

Heads  were  nodded. 

"There  we  are  to  be  threatened,  scared  within 
an  inch  of  our  lives  and  we  promise  to  leave  at 
once—" 

A  loud  guffaw  interrupted  him. 

"Exactly!  You  get  the  idea.  Our  thought 
was  that  if  Mr.  Williams  here  and  a  bunch  of 
you  fellows  were  in  hiding  round  the  cabin,  we 
might  get  them  to  promise  to  leave  at  once " 

More  laughter. 

"We'll  be  there,  Mr.  Shawn,"  said  McKim. 

"Oh,  you'd  better  not  mix  in,  McKim.  Send 
your  men.  I  don't  want  to  lose  a  good  fore- 
man," began  Dennis. 

"Mr.  Shawn,  would  he  be  takin'  mother's 
milk  from  a  babe?  'Tis  nary  a  fight  I've  had 
for  long  an'  long,"  murmured  the  Irishman. 

"All  right,  McKim,  suit  yourself,"  laughed 
Shawn.  "Bring  some  masks,  boys,  so  we  can 
fool  'em,  and  do  as  Williams  tells  you,  because 
we  will  work  out  the  plan  and  the  signals  and 


100  MARRIED? 

everything  in  advance.  Beat  'em  up  a  bit, 
but  no  shooting.  Each  fellow  will  take  a  man 
on  his  horse,  we'll  give  them  a  rough  ride  way 
over  to  the  edge  of  nowhere,  and  start  them  for 
town  on  foot.  Do  you  get  me?" 

"We  do,  sir" — with  much  laughter. 

"Good!  Be  ready  at  dark.  Mr.  Williams 
will  ride  down  here  for  you.  Much  obliged  to 
you,"  grinned  Dennis. 

"  'Tis  obliged  we  are  to  you,  sor,"  cried  McKim. 

The  three  conspirators  mounted  and  rode 
off. 

"So  far  so  godd,"  said  Williams. 

"So  far  much  better!"  amended  Chuck. 

"Let's  go  back  by  way  of  the  nursery  and  have 
a  few  words  with  that  lousy  traitor,  Caproni," 
suggested  Dennis. 

They  came  to  the  nursery  acres  where  the 
small  trees  were  set.  Caproni  came  to  speak 
to  them.  Dennis  asked  him  some  questions 
about  the  work,  and  he  answered  most  affably. 
The  other  men  rested  on  their  shovels  and  looked 
at  the  trio  sullenly. 

"Gosh,  I'm  glad  we're  on  to  this  plot!  I 
wouldn't  enjoy  it  half  so  much  if  they  were 
springing  this  on  us,"  remarked  Chuck  to 
Williams,  under  his  breath. 


MARRIED?  101 

"Pretty  tough-looking  customers,  all  right," 
William  agreed. 

They  rode  back  to  the  ranch  house  at  noon. 

"We'll  do  some  letters  this  afternoon,  Williams, 
and  work  out  the  rest  of  the  plan.  You  can 
take  a  half  day  off,  Chuck!" 

"Much  obliged.  I'd  like  to  rest  up  for 
evening.  I've  never  been  kidnapped  before 
and  I  want  to  be  all  fresh  to  enjoy  it." 

They  laughed  at  him,  he  was  so  like  an  ex- 
cited little  boy  going  to  the  circus. 

It  was  finally  decided  that  Williams  should 
set  off  alone  for  the  mill  while  the  men  in  quar- 
ters were  at  their  supper.  He  was  to  have  his 
forces  ambushed  and  ready  when  the  kidnappers 
and  their  prisoners  arrived.  The  signal  for  the 
rescue  party  was  to  be  a  call  from  Dennis  of 
"Help-Help-Help!"  They  were  to  rush  in, 
overpower  the  ruffians,  and  carry  them  off. 
In  the  meantime  Dennis  and  Chuck  were  to 
deliberately  expose  themselves  to  capture,  by 
riding  away  from  the  house,  past  quarters. 

When  Wong  called  them  to  dinner  they  were 
all  sharp-set  for  the  adventure.  They  talked 
and  laughed  and  joked  each  other  with  unwonted 
ardour.  They  lit  their  pipes  and  smoked  hard 
for  some  minutes.  Then  Williams  rose. 


102  MARRIED? 

"Well,  I'm  off.  'Help'  three  times  is  the 
signal  for  attack,  and  we  ride  northeast  after 
we  get  our  man." 

"Right.     See  you  later,"  grinned  Dennis. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  now,  Chuck,  don't  be 
funny  with  those  fellows  and  get  your  throat 
cut." 

"Harvey,  your  concern  for  my  safety  is  a 
moving  thing!  Get  along,  and  good  fighting 
to  you,  old  buck!" 

Williams  grinned  and  left  them.  Chuck  went 
indoors,  and  Dennis  smoked  alone  in  the  patio. 
Presently  he  saw  a  figure  creeping  along  close 
to  the  wall,  inside  the  court.  He  put  his  hand 
on  his  revolver. 

"Don't  shoot — me — Kate,"  said  a  voice  in  a 
whisper. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  harshly. 

"  Don't  go  way  from  ranch  house  to-night." 

"Come  here,  Kate,"  he  ordered. 

She  glanced  around,  then  rose  and  walked 
toward  him. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  what  mixture  of  blood  ran 
in  Kate's  veins.  It  seemed  impossible  that  old 
Pinto  could  be  her  father.  She  was  straight  and 
slim  and  young.  Her  skin  was  not  brown  like  a 
Mexican's,  but  it  was  smooth  like  deep-toned 


MARRIED?  103 

ivory.  Great  black  eyes  stared,  unblinking,  from 
this  background — her  hair  was  black,  shining, 
and  straight.  She  came  toward  Dennis  with  the 
free  swing  of  the  primitive. 

"What  are  all  these  warnings,  Kate?"  Dennis 
asked  her. 

"Trouble  for  you — don't  go  way  to-night." 

"But  who  is  making  the  trouble,  Kate?  Is 
it  Pinto?" 

"Pinto  old  devil,"  she  replied. 

"Granted — but  what  does  he  want?" 

"Don't  know." 

"Does  Caproni  know  who's  at  the  bottom 
of  this?" 

"Don't  know,"  she  shrugged. 

"Won't  they  punish  you  if  they  find  out 
you  warned  me?" 

She  shrugged  again,  but  made  no  answer. 

"Won't  they?"  he  insisted. 

He  took  her  by  the  shoulders  and  turned  her 
so  he  could  see  her  face.  She  was  trembling. 

"Kate,  old  Pinto  will  beat  you  for  this." 

"Don't  care." 

"But  why  should  you  risk  a  beating  for  me?" 

"Kate  love  Dennis  Shawn,"  she  said  simply. 

He  dropped  his  hands  from  her  shoulders 
quickly,  startled  by  her  words.  Suddenly  her 


104  MARRIED? 

arms  were  about  his  neck,  her  body  was  pressed 
close  to  his,  and  her  red  lips  were  lifted  to  him. 

"Kate  love  Dennis  Shawn,"  she  repeated. 
'Dennis  take  Kate." 

She  drew  his  head  down  to  her,  and  he  kissed  her. 

"I  say,  Denny,"  called  Chuck  and  came 
upon  them  suddenly.  "Holy  mackerel — I 
apologize!" 

Dennis  loosened  the  girl's  arms. 

"Kate  risked  a  beating,  maybe  worse,  to 
warn  me,"  he  said. 

"Good  old  Kate!  She  deserves  the  reward 
she  got — and  more,"  remarked  Chuck. 

"Dennis  Shawn  thanks  you,  Kate." 

"You  not  go  away  to-night?" 

"I'll  not  go  far,  Kate.  It  will  be  all  right. 
You're  not  to  worry.  Understand,  nothing 
will  happen  to  me.  I'll  be  protected." 

"No — no — don't  go,"  she  begged,  clinging  to 
him. 

"I  must.  Here — you  go  in  there  and  wait," 
he  said,  pointing  to  the  living  room  of  the  ranch 
house. 

She  turned  to  appeal  to  Chuck. 

"It's  all  right,  Kate.     We're  on!"  he  grinned. 

She  went  into  the  house  then.  The  two 
men  strolled  off  to  the  stables. 


MARRIED?  105 

"Plucky  of  the  little  devil.  They'd  skin 
her  alive  if  they  knew,"  said  Chuck. 

"Yes." 

"She's  a  beauty,  Dennis.  She's  crazy  about 
you.  Why  don't  you  take  her?"  asked  the  boy. 

"Can't  be  done.  As  soon  as  you  mix  up  with 
their  women,  you  lose  authority  over  the  men." 

"Gosh!  Authority  over  the  men  could  go 
hang  if  that  beauty  made  love  to  me  like  that. 
Didn't  you  want  her?" 

"Yes.  I'd  like  to  have  flung  her  over  my 
saddle  and  made  off  with  her,"  said  Dennis 
grimly,  but  he  was  breathing  hard.  Chuck  sud- 
denly realized  what  loyalty  to  his  trust  meant 
to  this  man.  The  good  of  the  Santa  Rosa  was 
first  in  his  life. 

They  strolled,  walking  their  horses  slowly 
past  the  quarters.  There  was  no  singing  to- 
night, only  a  grim  silence  pervaded  the  place. 
Even  the  slatternly  wives  were  quiet. 

Dennis  and  Chuck  rode  a  mile  and  a  half 
before  they  heard  the  horses  behind  them.  They 
slowed  down  to  a  walk. 

"I  feel  like  a  debutante  at  her  first  ball," 
whispered  Chuck,  just  before  the  masked  riders 
overtook  and  surrounded  them. 

They  were  swiftly  dismounted,  gagged,  their 


106  MARRIED? 

arms  tied,  their  revolvers  taken  from  them; 
they  were  set  back  on  their  horses,  which  were 
led  by  the  two  leaders. 

In  silence  the  procession  moved  on  toward 
the  cabin.  Not  a  word  had  been  spoken  so  far. 
Dennis  looked  over  at  Chuck  and  the  boy  winked 
at  him. 

Arrived  at  the  cabin  they  were  led  in  and 
the  gags  taken  off.  The  men  made  a  circle 
about  them  and  the  leader  began  to  speak.  He 
was  undoubtedly  the  Spanish-speaking  gentleman . 

"I've  brought  you  fellows  up  here  to  tell 
you  that  we  give  you  just  twenty-four  hours  to 
clear  out  of  Santa  Rosa.  You  can  take  your 
choice  between  goin'  on  the  Limited  to  Frisco, 
or  settin'  off  on  a  rail  with  a  guard." 

:<You  frighten  me!"  said  Dennis  in  Spanish. 

Chuck  laughed. 

"Cut  that  out!  I  can't  be  responsible  for 
these  fellows — they  may  decide  to  string  you 
two  up  to-night  and  be  done  with  it " 

"Help!     Help!     Help!"  cried  Dennis  wildly. 

It  seemed  as  if  McKim  must  have  been  shot 
out  of  a  catapult,  he  came  through  the  door  so 
hard  and  so  fast.  The  others  tumbled  in  be- 
hind him.  They  shouted  greetings  to  Caproni 
and  the  men,  which  threw  them  off  the  scent 


MARRIED?  107 

for  a  second.  They  had  all  drawn  guns — but 
they  did  not  shoot.  In  that  second  the  new- 
comers each  picked  a  man  and  went  for  him. 
The  first  move  was  to  disarm  them,  and  all  at 
once  the  cabin  was  a  a  writhing  mass  of  arms 
and  legs  and  cursing  humans.  The  one  lantern 
was  broken  and  the  fight  was  in  the  dark.  As 
fast  as  Dennis's  men,  who  outnumbered  the 
others,  could  manage  it,  they  roped  the  arms 
of  the  captured  behind  them.  One  or  two 
shots  went  astray,  but  it  was  a  regular  hand-to- 
hand  affair.  When  a  man  was  roped,  he  was 
dragged  out  and  slung  on  a  horse  in  front  of  his 
captor.  The  number  grew  slowly  but  surely. 
Williams  managed  to  get  Caproni  on  his  horse, 
Chuck  was  struggling  with  Pinto,  and  Dennis 
was  sweating  and  fighting  the  Spanish  gentle- 
man when  a  shot  was  fired  from  behind  him. 
The  man  rolled  over  with  a  groan.  From  some- 
where a  hand  felt  for  Dennis. 

"Dennis  Shawn — where  are  you,  Dennis 
Shawn?" 

"  Kate !     You  fool ! "  he  cried. 

She  touched  him,  feeling  him  swiftly  for 
wounds. 

"I'm  all  right.  Here,  boys,  take  this  fellow 
out.  Better  look  him  over,  he's  hurt." 


108  MARRIED? 

Two  men  carried  Roderiguez  out  into  the 
light  of  a  torch. 

Dennis  turned  to  the  figure  crouching  beside 
him. 

"Kate,  I'm  safe.  Ride  back  now  to  the 
ranch." 

"  Can't  go — my  horse  gone  home,"  she  replied. 

He  picked  her  up  and  ran  out  with  her. 

"Go  ahead,  boys.  Ride  like  hell  to  the  north- 
west and  head  them  toward  Los  Angeles," 
cried  Dennis.  "The  others  will  follow!" 

The  cavalcade  started  on  the  gallop — and 
behind  them  all  came  Dennis  Shawn  with 
Kate  on  the  saddle  before  him.  She  sat  sidewise, 
her  head  upon  his  breast,  and  she  held  him  with 
one  arm  about  his  neck,  but  his  thoughts  were 
not  for  her  until  Santa  Rosa's  cause  was  served. 
Through  the  night  the  horses  ran,  with  now 
and  then  a  wild  decisive  whoop  from  the  con- 
querors. The  stars  paled  and  dawn  threw 
out  sprays  of  light,  but  still  they  galloped  on. 


CHAPTER  IX 

MARCIA  and  Mary  Jane  Paul  returned 
to  New  York,  the  former  with  the 
feeling  that  play  time  was  over,  and 
that  the  subject  of  her  marriage  and  of  new 
responsibilities  must  be  faced,  the  latter  with 
the  joyous  anticipation  of  hard  labour  at  the 
work  she  loved. 

Clarke  met  them  on  the  pier,  with  a  char- 
acteristic greeting: 

"Hello,  old  girl — glad  to  see  you  back." 

His  man  looked  after  their  luggage,  and  he 
carried  them  off  to  lunch;  Mary  Jane  protested, 
but  he  was  insistent  that  she  join  them,  and  in 
Marcia's  nervous  entreaties  she  heard  a  call  for 
help.  So  she  made  a  third  at  the  reunion  of 
these  lovers  who  had  been  parted  for  four 
months,  and  instead  of  feeling  herself  a  vile 
interloper,  she  felt  rather  like  the  raft  the 
drowning  clung  to. 

She  found  herself  rather  sorry  for  the  man. 
In  his  strange,  impassive  way,  she  believed  he 
was  fond  of  Marcia.  She  tried  to  look  at 

109 


110  MARRIED? 

the  girl  with  the  eyes  of  a  stranger.  Marcia 
was  very  lovely  to  look  upon.  That  was 
obvious  enough.  She  was  vivid  and  full  of 
life  when  she  was  interested.  She  was  per- 
fectly dressed  and  yet  her  clothes  expressed 
her — she  was  not  by  any  means  a  manikin. 
There  was  everything,  certainly,  to  attract 
this  type  of  man — and  yet  what  a  pity  that 
he  would  never  know  what  sweetness  and  sym- 
pathy and  understanding  lay  beneath  the  sur- 
face! What  courage  and  spirit  lay  dormant 
behind  the  restless,  seeking  creature  that  was 
Marcia  Livingston  to  her  world ! 

Her  world,  however,  was  satisfied  with  what 
it  saw.  It  found  Marcia  amusing  and  it 
swallowed  her  up  promptly  upon  her  return. 

When  she  had  been  home  for  a  fortnight 
she  had  a  telephone  call  one  day  from  Judge 
Horace  Tracey,  one  of  the  executors  of  the 
estate,  and  her  friend  from  childhood,  as  he 
had  been  her  father's. 

"Welcome  home,  Marcia,"  his  cordial  voice 
said  to  her  over  the  wire.  "I've  been  trying 
to  run  in  and  see  you  ever  since  I  heard  you 
were  back,  but  I  don't  seem  to  manage  it." 

"I'll  come  to  see  you,  Judge,"  she  offered.1 

"I   hoped    you    would    say    that.     I    really 


MARRIED?  Ill 

want  to  talk  to  you  about  your  affairs.  I  sup- 
pose you  will  be  getting  married  soon,  now " 

"Oh — yes — I  suppose  so." 

"I  want  you  to  have  your  business  well  in 
mind  before  your  husband  complicates  things." 

"Clarke  won't  complicate  things.  I  won't 
let  him.  He  can  look  after  his  affairs  and  you 
and  I'll  look  after  mine." 

"Here  speaks  the  modern  woman!"  laughed 
the  Judge.  "When  will  you  come?" 

They  decided  upon  four  o'clock  of  the  follow- 
ing afternoon,  and  after  some  banter  and  teasing 
about  the  new  school  which  was  much  in  the 
public  print,  the  Judge  rang  off. 

When  she  was  ushered  into  his  private  office 
the  next  day,  he  came  to  meet  her  with  both 
hands  out,  and  she  gave  him  a  daughterly 
hug  and  kiss. 

"Well,  little  Marcia!"  he  said,  holding  her  off 
to  look  into  her  eyes. 

"Well,  Judge  Horace!"  she  answered,  smiling. 

"So  you're  going  to  marry  Clarke,  are  you?" 

"Yes,  it  seems  to  be  on  the  books." 

He  avoided  comment  by  offering  her  a  chair. 

"You  don't  approve?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  there  is  anything 
to  disapprove  of  in  Clarke  Jessup.  He's  decent 


MARRIED? 

enough  of  his  kind — but  somehow  his  kind  isn't 
just  what  I'd  pick  out  for  you. " 

"What  kind  would  you  pick  for  me,  Judge?" 

"I'd  like  to  see  you  marry  a  regular  man," 
he  responded. 

"Poor  Clarke,"  she  smiled. 

He  laughed. 

"If  you  love  the  fellow,  I  suppose  that  settles 
it." 

"It  would.  I  don't  know  much  about  love, 
Judge  Horace." 

"Tut-tut,  you've  had  suitors  since  you  were 
fifteen." 

"That  doesn't  count.  I  mean  the  real  thing 
— the  thou-and-I-and-the-world-well-Iost  kind 
of  thing." 

"Hm — sadly  enough,  that  kind  seems  rather 
out  of  date,  doesn't  it?  Our  young  people 
seem  to  be  a  practical  lot.  They  won't  let 
sentiment  interfere  with  business,"  he  sighed. 

"I  hate  the  age  we  live  in,  Judge  Horace!" 
she  said  hotly.  "I  wish  we  had  gone  down  into 
barbarism  completely  during  the  war!  We're 
over-civilized — over-everything.  I'm  sick  of  it ! " 

He  looked  at  her  so  anxiously,  with  such 
puzzled  tenderness,  that  she  laughed  outright. 

"It's    all    right,    old    dear!     I'm   letting   off 


MARRIED?  113 

steam.  Bring  on  your  debits  and  credits  and 
balance  sheets  and  let  us  contemplate  my 
unearned  riches." 

"Marcia,  you  aren't  leaning  toward  Social- 
ism ? ' ' — anxiously. 

"I  don't  know  what  it  means." 

"Well,  don't  let  the  cranks  get  hold  of  you. 
You're  so  fond  of  experiments,"  he  protested. 

"Don't  worry.  Do  I  have  to  hear  about  all 
that?"  she  objected,  pointing  to  piles  of  reports 
and  documents. 

"Not  in  any  detail.  You  say  you  don't 
intend  to  have  Clarke  interfering,  but,  of  course, 
he  has  a  legal  right  to  do  so." 

"I  won't  have  him  in  on  my  affairs,"  she 
said  stubbornly. 

"The  one  thing  I  am  most  anxious  to  have 
unchanged  is  the  management  of  Santa  Rosa 
Ranch.  You  know,  of  course,  that  the  greater 
part  of  your  income  is  derived  from  that  source, 
and  it  would  be  a  real  calamity  to  have  Dennis 
Shawn  removed  from  there." 

"Judge,  you  would  think  this  man  with  the 
impossible  name  was  your  favourite  son!"  she 
laughed. 

"  Would  to  heaven  he  were !     There  is  a  man ! " 

"Yes,  I  know — the  true  type  of  honest  Ameri- 


114  MARRIED? 

can — you  always  get  them  in  the  movies," 
she  jeered.  "Great,  uncouth,  God's  noblemen, 
with  grand  hearts  and  no  manners " 

The  Judge  flashed  with  impatience. 

"You  put  Dennis  Shawn  up  against  Clarke 
Jessup,  and  give  yourself  a  good  laugh,"  he 
said  hotly. 

"Well,  I'm  not  going  to!  I  never  have  seen 
this  99  per  cent,  hero  of  yours  and  I  don't  intend 
to.  I  promise  you,  however,  to  keep  him  on  till 
he  dies  of  old  age,  as  manager  of  Santa  Rosa, 
just  out  of  affection  for  you,  if  nothing  else." 

"Dennis  Shawn  is  a  gentleman,  don't  forget 
that.  He's  the  grandson  of  your  grandfather's 
most  influential  enemy." 

"I  promise  never  to  lose  this  treasure!" 

"You'll  serve  your  own  best  interests  if  you 
don't.  We've  had  plenty  of  managers  in  your 
father's  day,  but  we  never  had  a  Dennis  Shawn, 
let  me  tell  you." 

"How  long  has  he  been  there?" 

"Let  me  see — Dennis  is  thirty-five  now.  I 
took  him  on  when  he  was  twenty-five — that's 
ten  years." 

He  turned  suddenly  and  looked  at  her. 

"I  may  have  to  go  out  to  Santa  Rosa  this 
fall.  Come  with  me,  Marcia." 


MARRIED?  115 

"Oh,  no.  I  can't.  I've  got  lots  of  things 
to  do  here — besides,  I  hate  the  place.  I  went 
once  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  with  Father,  and  it 
rained  all  the  time,  and  I  was  afraid  of  the 
Chinese  cook.  Oh,  I  hated  it!" 

"I  may  not  go,"  mused  the  Judge,  "I  may 
get  Dennis  on  here." 

"What  about  the  old  Spanish  woman — is 
she  dead  yet?" 

"No,  Dennis  has  just  disposed  of  an  heiress 
who  presented  herself." 

He  laughed,  rummaged  in  a  drawer,  and  drew 
forth  the  letter  and  the  telegram,  which  he 
offered  her.  She  read  them. 

"Poor  heiress!  Your  Shawn  sounds  quite 
the  Cave  Man." 

"Dennis  doesn't  strike  one  as  an  effete  per- 
son," he  smiled. 

"Get  on  to  the  fact.  I'm  sick  of  your  hero," 
she  teased  him. 

"We  joke  about  this  old  Spanish  woman,  and 
yet  she  really  can  be  said  to  hold  your  fate  in 
her  hands,"  the  Judge  mused. 

"How?"— startled. 

"It  was  a  pretty  big  gamble  old  Henry 
Livingston  started  with  the  Santa  Rosa." 

"Do  I  know  about  it?" 


116  MARRIED? 

"I  told  you  when  you  were  twenty-one." 

"Mercy!    I'd  never  remember  all  this  time." 

"You  ought  to — it  grows  more  important 
as  the  stubborn  old  woman  nears  her  end. 
We. can't  get  any  agreement  out  of  her  as  to 
what  she  intends  to  do  with  her  property,  and 
unless  we  get  it,  at  her  death  the  whole  of 
Santa  Rosa's  title  may  be  invalidated." 

"Really— how?" 

"The  Padrasso  Ranch  is  the  centre  of  the 
original  Spanish  grant.  When  your  grand- 
father bought  up  the  surrounding  country, 
he  found  he  could  not  get  clear  title  unless  he 
acquired  that  original  five  thousand  acres. 
He  took  a  chance  on  it — your  father  tried  to 
get  a  settlement  with  old  Padrasso,  and  then 
his  granddaughter  and  we've  been  trying  to 
do  so  ever  since  his  death. " 

"But  why  won't  she  sell?  She  could  stay 
in  her  old  house  till  she  died,  couldn't  she?" 

"Yes.  We've  offered  big  sums — any  conces- 
sions. She's  old  and  queer  and  she  tells  Dennis 
that  it  amuses  her  to  have  the  Great  Western 
and  the  Livingstons  fighting  over  her  property." 

"  I  like  her — she  sounds  interesting.  I  remem- 
ber I  saw  her  when  I  was  out  there.  She  seemed 
to  me  hundreds  of  years  old  then." 


MARRIED?  117 

"Of  course  the  Great  Western  watches  her 
all  the  time.  If  they  can  get  her  to  sell  to 
them  or  deed  it  to  them,  they  stand  a  chance  of 
invalidating  our  whole  property,  with  all  our 
years  of  improvements  put  upon  it — or  because  of 
the  mass  of  laws  in  California  governing  land, 
and  the  various  constructions  the  court  has 
put  upon  them,  Santa  Rosa  might  revert  to 
the  state  and  the  Great  Western  would  have  a 
chance  to  buy  one  of  the  most  valuable  prop- 
erties in  all  California." 

"Couldn't  we  buy  back  our  own  property?" 

"Yes,  but  nearly  all  your  money  is  tied  up 
in  it.  I  doubt  if  we  could  raise  the  cash  to 
beat  the  Great  Western's  offer." 

"Hm — well,  it  is  important.  We've  just  got 
to  get  the  Padrasso  place,  haven't  we?"  she 
said. 

"That's  what  we  think!  The  old  woman 
adores  Dennis — that's  another  reason  for  keep- 
ing him  on." 

"Maybe  she'll  leave  it  to  him." 

"I  wish  she  would.     That  would  simplify  it." 

"You  do  believe  in  him!"  she  laughed. 

"Absolutely." 

"I  suppose  this  is  the  time  to  tell  you  that  I 
want  some  more  money  for  the  theatre  school." 


118  MARRIED? 

He  frowned  slightly. 

"Marcia,  that  theatre  has  cost  about  $50,000," 
he  protested. 

"It  may  cost  that  much  more!"  she  warned 
him. 

"I  don't  advise  it,  my  dear!  You  spend 
money  like  the  Shah  of  Persia. " 

"Only  thing  to  do  with  it.  I'll  send  Mary 
Jane  Paul  to  talk  to  you  about  it.  She  knows 
what  we  need,"  Marcia  replied  airily. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  they  finished,  and 
Marcia  felt  somehow  tired  and  depressed  by  it. 

"It's  all  crooked,  Judge.  No  woman  who 
contributes  as  little  as  I  do  to  the  common 
good  ought  to  be  allowed  to  have  all  this 
money " 

"There  you  go  again — that's  out-and-out 
Socialism." 

"Is  it?  I'm  going  to  look  up  Socialism. 
I  told  you  I  didn't  know  what  it  was,  but  if 
that's  it — I  want  to  know  about  it." 

"Let  it  alone.  This  country  is  sufficiently 
upset  as  it  is,"  he  warned  her. 

"Judge,  what  are  you  going  to  do  to-night?" 

"Let  me  see — I'm  going  to  dine  at  the  club, 
and  play  bridge " 

"Excuse  me — but  you  are  going  on  a  lark 


MARRIED?  119 

with  your  young  and  beautiful  ward.  You're 
going  to  take  me  to  some  jolly  place  for  dinner, 
and  to  a  'show,'  to  make  up  for  the  hard  work 
you've  made  my  poor  old  brain  stagger  through 
for  these  two  hours." 

" Splendid !     But  what  about  Clarke?  " 

"Oh,  bother  Clarke!  Let  him  dine  at  the 
club  and  play  bridge." 

"Gladly,  my  dear.  Bless  my  soul,  it's  nearly 
seven.  We'll  reserve  a  table  somewhere  and 
go  at  once." 

"Don't  reserve  a  table.  We'll  take  our 
chances.  I  want  to  go  to  some  gay  not  too 
respectable  place,"  she  begged  him. 

:<  You'll  have  to  choose  it,  Marcia.  I  don't 
know  these  wicked  cafes  the  younger  set  infests." 

"Come  along,  Methuselah.  We'll  try  a  new 
French  place,  in  the  Forties,  which  is  said  to  be 
bang-up  with  the  accent  on  the  bang." 

Le  Cafe  Chanticleer  proved  to  be  all  of  that. 
It  was  the  last  word  in  excellent  food,  rare 
wines,  and  decadent  vaudeville.  Everybody 
seemed  wildly  gay  and  Marcia  caught  some  of 
the  spirit  of  the  place  and  the  people,  and  amused 
the  Judge  mightily  even  as  he  marvelled  at  her 
youth,  which  could  find  a  stimulus  in  this  shrill, 
garish  place. 


120  MARRIED? 

Later  they  set  forth,  arm  in  arm,  to  look  for 
a  "show." 

"We'll  walk  and  shop  for  tickets.  Let's 
find  something  funny  and  naughty  to  go  with 
that  cafe." 

"It's  easy  enough  to  find  the  naughty  on  Broad- 
way, but  it  isn't  usually  funny,"  he  remarked. 

"That  remark  is  of  the  Old  World,  Judge. 
It's  because  you  look  for  the  School  for  Scandal 
or  The  Henrietta  that  you  think  Broadway 
dull.  You  must  put  up  with  bedroom  farces 
like  this!"  she  ended,  stopping  before  a  three- 
sheet.  "The  Proxy  Husband — The  Farce  scream 
of  the  Season."  The  poster  displayed  a  beau- 
tiful blonde  heroine,  in  pajamas,  seated  in  her 
bed,  while  two  gentlemen  exclaimed  in  chorus, 
"I  am  your  husband." 

"This  is  it,  Judge.  I  feel  sure  that  this  is 
what  we  need,"  cried  Marcia,  leading  her  escort 
toward  the  box  office. 

"We'll  try  an  act  of  it — we  don't  have  to 
stay,"  he  said  warily. 

They  took  their  seats  just  as  the  curtain  rose. 

It  was  a  farce  of  the  usual  Broadway  brand. 
It  was  based  on  the  idea  of  marriage  by  proxy 
between  an  Australian  girl  and  a  soldier  at  the 
front.  When  the  time  came  for  the  groom  to 


MARRIED?  121 

return,  he  funked  it  and  induced  a  pal  to  ac- 
cept his  responsibility.  But  an  old  lover  of 
the  girl  heard  these  two  make  this  arrange- 
ment and  he  decided  to  impersonate  the  long- 
distance husband.  The  complications  are  obvious 
enough,  but  the  thing  bounded  along  swiftly 
and  laughs  were  many.  The  Judge  and  Marcia 
sat  it  through,  and  laughed  with  the  rest. 

"Is  there  such  a  thing  as  marriage  by  proxy?" 
she  asked  him,  in  the  intermission. 

"Oh,  yes — it  has  been  done.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  I  believe  it  was  made  legal  in  several 
countries  during  the  war." 

"What  a  lovely  idea!"  laughed  Marcia. 

Later,  when  he  stood  upon  her  doorstep, 
refusing  to  come  in,  she  kissed  him  good-night. 

"I've  had  a  perfect  time,  dear  Judge." 

"You've  given  me  one,  dear  child,"  he  an- 
swered gallantly. 

But  as  he  trudged  off  toward  his  own  home 
he  sighed  to  think  how  old  he  was,  how  the 
amusement  of  this  generation  appalled  him. 
How  young  and  enthusiastic  Marcia  was,  for 
all  her  sophistication!  What  a  pity  that  life 
should  offer  her,  with  all  her  gifts  and  all  her 
money,  merely  the  drab  compromise  of  a  mar- 
riage with  Clarke  Jessup ! 


CHAPTER  X 

A~TER  the  forced  exit  of  the  fifteen 
troublesome  men  from  Santa  Rosa, 
including  the  foreman,  things  settled 
down  for  a  while  on  the  ranch.  Chuck  took 
Caproni's  place,  and  there  was  every  indication 
of  peace  for  a  time. 

Dennis  found  himself  with  the  problem  of 
Kate  on  his  hands.  She  had  refused  to  go 
along  with  Pinto  the  night  of  the  fight.  He 
had  offered  to  send  her  to  Los  Angeles,  or  any- 
where she  wanted  to  go,  but  she  refused  to  leave 
the  ranch. 

"Kate  love  Dennis  Shawn — "Kate  stay  Santa 
Rosa,"  was  all  she  would  say  in  answer  to  his 
suggestions. 

She  performed  the  most  thorough  house- 
cleaning,  painted  and  whitewashed  the  shack 
herself,  in  readiness  for  the  time  when  Dennis 
Shawn  should  come  to  seek  her.  He  watched 
these  preparations  with  anxiety.  Was  he  a 
fool,  as  Chuck  had  said?  The  girl  was  hand- 
some, she  loved  him  enough  to  risk  her  safety, 

122 


MARRIED?  123 

if  not  her  life,  in  his  behalf.  He  was  no  anchor- 
ite. Was  it  true  that  he  owed  it  to  Judge 
Tracey  and  the  ranch  to  refuse  her? 

"Chuck,  we've  got  to  go  up  to  Los  Angeles 
to  get  some  new  men  and  a  foreman,"  he  said 
one  day.  "Got  anything  to  do  up  there? 
Want  to  come?" 

"You  know  it!"  replied  Chuck.  "I  need 
a  manicure  and  a  marcel — and  some  breeches," 
he  added. 

Dennis  grinned  at  him. 

"We  can  go  to-morrow.  We'll  delegate  one 
of  the  men  to  act  in  your  place  and  Williams 
can  run  the  rest  of  it.  We'll  bring  the  men  back 
with  us.  I  want  to  see  them  myself  before  we  hire 
them.  I  don't  want  any  of  Roderiguez's  friends." 

"It  won't  take  me  ten  minutes  to  pack, Dennis, 
so  you  set  the  hour." 

They  left  the  next  day.  Dennis  was  glad 
of  an  excuse  to  run  away  from  Kate;  Chuck 
was  pleased  with  a  change,  so  they  were  very 
cheerful.  They  had  arranged  to  call  Williams 
each  night  of  the  three  days  they  were  to  be 
absent,  so  that  he  might  summon  them  back 
in  case  of  trouble. 

Arrived  in  Los  Angeles  and  registered  at  a 
hotel,  Dennis  said: 


124  MARRIED? 

"I'll  go  see  Swanson  about  my  men  right 
away,  Chuck.  It  may  take  him  forty-eight 
hours  to  collect  what  I  want.  What  are  you 
doing?" 

"I'm  having  a  Turkish  bath,  a  shave,  and  a 
hair  cut.  I'm  goin'  to  treat  myself  like  a 
bloomin'  Roman,"  he  answered. 

Dennis  laughed. 

"Terrible  responsibility  to  be  a  professional 
beauty,  eh,  Chuck?" 

He  dodged  out  the  door  to  escape  the  pillow 
the  boy  threw  at  him,  and  went  chuckling  down 
the  hall. 

They  did  not  meet  again  until  night,  when 
they  ordered  for  themselves  an  extremely  good 
dinner,  and  sat  on  smoking  until  the  dining 
room  was  almost  empty. 

"What  do  you  say  to  a  show,  Dennis?" 

*  *  All  right.     Is  there  anything  on  ?  " 

"Yes.  I  looked  over  the  list.  Vaudeville 
and  movies  and  'due  to  the  energy  and  enterprise 
of  Mr.  Salasco,"The  Proxy  Husband,"  a  farce 
by  Mike  Rock,  is  being  enjoyed  in  Los  Angeles 
at  the  same  time  it  is  being  produced  in  New 
York.'  I  quote  exactly.  I  think  as  a  mark 
of  our  appreciation  to  Mr.  Salasco,  we  ought  to 
take  that  in,  Dennis." 


MARRIED?  125 

"It's  all  one  to  me,"  smiled  Dennis. 

Later  they  strolled  over  to  the  theatre  and 
bought  seats. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Chuck,  when  they 
were  waiting  for  the  curtain,  "I  marvel  at 
myself  when  I  think  how  we  live  at  the  ranch. 
Last  winter  I  saw  about  six  shows  a  week,  not 
to  mention  cabarets." 

"Gosh,  that  must  have  been  hard  work!" 

"I  thought  when  the  governor  shipped  me 
out  here  that  I'd  be  running  into  Los  Angeles 
every  few  nights." 

"Stay  in  Santa  Rosa  long  enough  and  it'll 
cure  you,"  promised  Dennis. 

"I'm  nearly  cured  now.  I  don't  think  any- 
thing about  it.  I'd  like  a  girl  to  play  with 
now  and  then  but  I  don't  miss  the  shows." 

"I  don't  know  about  New  York,  and  I've 
never  been  to  a  cabaret,  but  the  shows  they  have 
out  here  are  such  damned  nonsense." 

The  curtain  rose  on  "The  Proxy  Husband," 
which  was  certainly  no  exception  to  Dennis's  rule. 
But  the  thing  was  well-played,  the  idea  a  fresh  one, 
and  the  audience  laughed  uproariously.  Chuck's 
spontaneous  boy  laugh  kept  everyone  within 
hearing  distance  amused,  and  Dennis  enjoyed  his 
companion  quite  as  much  as  he  did  the  play. 


126  MARRIED? 

"Where  did  they  get  hold  of  that  crazy  idea, 
do  you  suppose?"  Chuck  asked  as  they  went  out. 

"Can't  imagine." 

"You  don't  suppose  there  is  such  a  thing, 
do  you?" 

"Marriage  like  that?     No,  of  course  not." 

"Well,  you  do  have  to  hand  it  to  these  fellows 
who  turn  out  these  shows.  Must  be  some  trick 
to  think  up  an  idea  like  that." 

"But  what's  the  good  of  thinking  it  up?" 

"You  old  roughneck !  You  ought  never  to  come 
off  the  farm !  Didn't  you  get  a  laugh  out  of  it  ?  " 

"I  got  a  laugh  out  of  you,"  smiled  Dennis. 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast  Chuck  was 
looking  over  the  morning  paper,  while  Dennis 
ate,  and  considered  his  plans  for  the  day. 

"Jupiter — here's  news!"  exclaimed  Chuck. 

"Yes?"  Dennis  read  the  item  that  Chuck 
indicated. 

The  marriage  of  Miss  Marcia  Livingston,  the  heiress  to 
the  great  Livingston  estate,  to  Mr.  Clarke  Jessup,  of 
New  York,  will  be  celebrated  on  December  27th  of 
this  winter.  It  is  estimated  that  the  joint  fortune  of 
these  two  young  people  will  approximate  fifty  millions. 
.  Miss  Livingston  has  long  been  noted  for  her  interest  in 
the  theatre,  her  little  playhouse  being  one  of  New  York's 
choicest  attractions.  Her  beauty  and  her  wealth  have 


MARRIED?  127 

made  her  a  conspicuous  figure  in  New  York  society  since 
her  debut  some  years  ago. 

Mr.  Clarke  Jessup  is  a  club  man  and  sportsman.  He 
is  sole  heir  of  his  father,  Hamilton  Jessup,  the  oil  magnate. 
Mr.  Jessup  is  a  member  of  the  Metropolitan  Club,  the 
Union  Club,  the  University  Club,  Piping  Rock,  etc.  etc. 

"Why  should  that  interest  me?"  asked  Dennis 
lazily. 

"It  means  you've  got  a  new  boss,"  said  Chuck. 

"You  don't  think  he'd  take  the  management 
of  the  estate  away  from  Judge  Tracey?"  said 
Dennis,  awake  now. 

"Why  not?     Have  a  look  at  him." 

He  passed  the  paper  over  to  Dennis.  There 
were  pictures  of  the  happy  pair.  Marcia  driving 
a  racing  car — Clarke  mounted  on  a  polo  pony. 

"How  does  he  strike  you?"  inquired  Chuck. 

"He  looks  like  a  half  wit." 

"You've  said  it.  Even  allowing  for  the 
newspaper  portrait — he  looks  to  me  like  a 
Moron!" 

"The  girl  has  never  interfered — maybe  he'll 
let  us  alone.  He  must  have  plenty  of  his  own 
to  look  after." 

"She's  some  girl,  isn't  she?"  Chuck  com- 
mented, turning  the  paper  so  he  could  look 
at  Marcia. 


128  MARRIED? 

"She  looks  like  all  the  rest  of  them." 

"All  the  rest  of  what,  Denny?" 

"Those  women  in  New  York.  I  saw  them 
on  Fifth  Avenue  and  at  the  theatres  and  hotels. 
Nothing  but  clothes.  Tired,  painted  faces, 
that  looked  as  if  they'd  never  felt  anything  or 
thought  anything.  Not  for  me!" 

"What  is  your  style  of  woman,  Denny? 
Miss  Livingston  makes  no  hit — and  Kate  doesn't 
qualify " 

"Kate  can  love  and  she  can  hate.  I'd  take 
her  of  the  two." 

"Go  ahead  and  take  her,  that's  all  you've 
got  to  do,"  teased  the  boy. 

"Lord — I  hope  you're  all  wrong  about  this, 
Chuck.  I  think  I'll  write  a  letter  to  Judge 
Tracey  about  it.  Queer  he  hasn't  said  anything 
to  me  about  it." 

"Tell  him  you  don't  approve  of  it  and  maybe 
she'll  break  it  off,"  grinned  Chuck. 

Dennis  composed  and  tore  up  several  letters 
before  he  accomplished  one.  What  he  finally 
wrote  to  the  Judge  was  as  follows: 

MY  DEAR  JUDGE: 

I  came  up  to  Los  Angeles  yesterday  on  some  ranch 
business,  and  I  see  by  the  morning  papers  here  that  Miss 
Livingston  is  going  to  be  married.  I  feel  pretty  anxious 


MARRIED?  129 

about  what  effect  that  may  have  on  Santa  Rosa.  As 
you  know,  I've  put  in  ten  of  the  best  years  of  my  life 
there,  and  I'd  rather  run  that  ranch  than  own  New  York 
City,  but  if  this  Mr.  Clarke  Jessup  is  going  to  take  over 
the  running  of  Santa  Rosa,  my  resignation  will  be  in  your 
hands  at  once.  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  the  man,  and 
he  may  be  all  right,  but  from  what  the  newspapers  say 
about  him,  and  the  way  he  looks  in  the  picture,  I  have  a 
feeling  that  we  wouldn't  get  along  very  well.  You've 
given  me  so  much  freedom,  and  trusted  me  with  so  much 
responsibility,  that  I  know  I  couldn't  accommodate 
myself  to  anything  less. 

This  may  be  a  false  alarm,  Judge,  on  my  part,  but  I 
want  you  to  know  just  how  I  stand  on  it.  I'd  appreciate 
a  letter  from  you  about  the  matter. 

With  the  most  cordial  regard  to  you,  I  am 

Most  truly, 
DENNIS  SHAWN. 

Chuck  did  his  best  to  persuade  him  that  his 
fears  might  be  groundless,  but  the  Irish  have 
ever  their  ups  and  their  downs,  and  he  went 
back  to  Santa  Rosa  deeply  depressed  by  his 
vision  of  a  future  to  be  spent  elsewhere. 

The  night  of  their  return  home  was  one  of 
those  rapturous  California  nights  of  stars  and 
sweet  odours  and  palpitating  silences.  Dennis 
walked  alone  in  the  garden  for  hours,  thinking, 
planning  a  new  life.  He  looked  about  him 
at  the  familiar  mountains,  at  the  ranch  house, 


130  MARRIED? 

the  light  streaming  from  its  open  doors  and 
windows;  he  watched  Wong's  shadow  slipping 
across  the  light  from  the  kitchen.  He  heard 
the  men  singing  down  at  the  quarters.  The 
haunting  minor  of  their  song  struck  upon  his 
senses.  He  was  like  a  man  suddenly  desolated 
of  his  all.  With  a  groan  he  turned  and  walked 
down  the  hill  to  Kate's  cabin,  in  search  of 
comfort — in  need  of  human  tenderness.  For 
the  first  time  in  ten  years  Santa  Rosa  was 
second  in  his  thoughts. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IT  WAS,  of  necessity,  ten  days  before  Judge 
Tracey's   letter  lifted   the  gloom  that   im- 
mersed  Dennis  Shawn.     During  that  time 
Chuck's   pranks   scarcely   raised   a   smile,   and 
Williams's  repeated  philosophy  of  "what  is,  was 
to  be"  brought  no  least  comfort. 
The  Judge  wrote: 

MY  DEAR  DENNIS: 

Your  letter  in  regard  to  Miss  Livingston's  marriage 
came  to-day,  and  I  hasten  to  assure  you  that  I  have  al- 
ready gone  into  the  matter  of  the  management  of  Santa 
Rosa  with  her,  and  I  have  her  positive  assurance  that 
Mr.  Jessup  is  not  to  interfere  in  any  way,  and  that  you 
and  I  will  be  let  alone  to  run  the  ranch  as  we  have  done 
for  these  ten  years. 

I  can  quite  understand  your  anxiety  in  the  matter  and 
I  appreciate  your  frankness  in  regard  to  your  situation. 
Miss  Livingston  is  quite  aware,  I  think,  of  your  value  to 
the  estate,  and  as  she  is  a  very  self-willed  young  woman, 
I  think  we  can  rely  on  her  word  that  Mr.  Jessup  is  not  to 
assume  command  over  her  affairs.  So,  my  dear  Dennis, 
you  may  look  forward  to  ten  or  even  twenty  years  on 
your  cherished  estate. 

Is  there  any  more  excitement  out  there?    Your  letters 

131 


132  MARRIED? 

with  their  spies  and  false  heiresses  do  much  to  relieve 
the  tedium  of  my  days. 

I  am  thinking  a  little  of  coming  out  to  Santa  Rosa  this 
winter. 

With  cordial  regards, 

HORACE  TRACEY. 

"Well,  boys,  it's  all  right!  According  to  the 
Judge,  the  Jessup  fellow  is  not  to  butt  in  at 
all,"  Dennis  announced  joyously,  looking  up 
from  the  letter. 

"Thank  God — the  reprieve  has  come!"  cried 
Chuck.  "  Another  week  of  gloom  like  the  last,  and 
you  would  have  found  my  body  in  the  ravine!" 

"Lord — have  I  been  as  bad  as  that?"  grinned 
Dennis. 

He  went  off  whistling  to  ride  his  rounds  of 
inspection. 

"Commend  me  to  the  Irish  for  equability!" 
sighed  Chuck,  and  Williams  smiled  and  nodded. 

It  seemed  to  Dennis,  as  he  rode,  that  he  was 
again  a  free  man,  after  a  fortnight  in  prison: 
only  now  did  he  realize  how  his  whole  life  was 
bound  up  with  Santa  Rosa,  how  he  loved  every 
inch  of  its  vast  acres.  He  smiled  grimly  at 
the  thought  that  his  future  and  his  happiness 
lay  in  the  whim  of  a  woman  whom  he  had  never 
seen.  He  thought  of  the  power  this  woman 


MARRIED?  133 

wielded  over  the  lives  of  many  people,  with  the 
fortune  which  she  possessed,  through  no  effort 
of  her  own.  He  conceived  her  selfish  and  in- 
different to  her  responsibility. 

His  thoughts  turned  from  this  woman  who 
played  such  an  important  part  in  his  life  to  the 
other  woman  who  had  lately  come  into  it. 
Untutored,  with  the  simplicity  of  the  savage, 
Kate  was  swayed  by  passions  of  love,  of  hate, 
of  revenge.  She  gave  her  love  to  Dennis 
with  abandon.  Her  one  wish  was  to  please 
him.  Never  by  a  sign  or  by  a  look  did  she 
suggest  there  was  anything  between  them 
when  they  met  by  day  or  when  he  passed  her 
house.  But  when  the  cabins  of  the  quarters 
were  wrapped  in  sleep,  and  he  went  to  her,  he 
found  in  her  welcome  the  qualities  of  mother, 
mistress,  and  slave.  To  serve  him,  to  delight 
him,  that  was  the  one  desire  of  Kate's  days. 

It  was  against  his  better  judgment  that  he 
had  assumed  this  relationship  with  her,  he 
was  unsure  where  it  would  lead  him,  and  now 
that  his  tenure  of  office  at  Santa  Rosa  was 
assured,  he  knew  he  must  face  some  decision 
on  the  subject;  but  for  the  present  his  mind 
wandered  off  to  other  things,  and  the  two  women 
were  forgotten. 


134  MARRIED? 

It  was  some  weeks  after  the  Judge's  reassuring 
letter  that  Chuck  reported  that  the  Senorita 
Padrasso  was  ill  and  in  her  bed.  He  had  not 
been  admitted,  and  when  he  asked  the  maid  if 
the  doctor  had  been  called,  she  replied  that  the 
old  lady  refused  to  see  him. 

Dennis  went  over  with  offers  of  assistance, 
with  flowers  from  his  garden.  He  sent  her  an 
urgent  message  that  she  let  him  bring  the  doctor. 
The  maid  appeared  anxious  about  her,  but  when 
Dennis  suggested  a  trained  nurse  from  Los 
Angeles  she  said  she  knew  the  Senorita  would 
not  have  her  about. 

The  old  lady's  voice  summoned  the  woman, 
and  Dennis  followed  her  to  the  door.  The 
old  woman  looked  like  a  mummy,  set  up  among 
her  pillows.  She  stared  at  him  with  recog- 
nition. 

"Dennis  Shawn,  I  shall  not  die  yet,"  she 
said. 

"Not  you.  You're  good  for  many  a  year 
yet,  Senorita,"  he  answered  heartily. 

But  he  left  with  an  anxious  face.  He  de- 
cided to  report  to  Judge  Tracey.  He  had 
always  suspected  that  there  was  a  pact  between 
him  and  the  senorita  as  to  the  disposal  of  her 
ranch.  He  wired: 


MARRIED?  135 

Senorita  Padrasso  very  ill.  What  arrangements  have 
you  about  her  ranch? 

D.  S. 

The  Judge  answered  immediately: 

DENNIS  SHAWN, 
Santa  Rosa. 

No  arrangement.  Offer  her  any  amount.  Keep  her 
condition  secret,  if  possible. 

H.  T. 

Dennis  was  reluctant  to  intrude  upon  the  old 
woman,  but  he  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  his 
employers,  so  he  induced  the  maid  to  take  him 
to  the  senorita's  bedside.  She  looked  about 
the  same,  save  that  her  eyes  were  filmed  with 
oncoming  death.  She  was  conscious.  She  rec- 
ognized Dennis,  and  seemed  to  hear  him  speak. 

"Senorita,  won't  you  let  me  bring  you  a 
doctor?"  he  begged. 

"No." 

"A  trained  nurse,  then,  to  make  you  com- 
fortable?" 

"No." 

"Will  you  forgive  me  if  I  ask  you  a  business 
question?" 

The  old  eyes  stared  at  him  and  he  fancied 
they  held  a  glimmer  of  amusement. 


136  MARRIED? 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  your  ranch, 
in  case  of  your  death?" 

She  made  no  answer. 

"I'm  authorized  to  offer  you  any  amount 
you  name,  if  you  will  sell  to  the  Livingston 
estate.  Do  you  understand  me?" 

She  nodded. 

"Will  you  sell  it  to  us,  Senorita?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

:<You  have  some  agreement  with  the  Great 
Western?"  he  persisted. 

Again  she  shook  her  head. 

"But  you  have  no  heir,  Senorita.  Will  you 
leave  it  to  your  maid?" 

"No." 

"I  dislike  to  trouble  you  with  it  now,  but 
you  can  see  that  my  duty  requires  it. " 

She  seemed  to  gather  all  her  strength  to  speak. 

"I  will  sell  for  $5,000,  that  sum  to  be  given 
my  maid,  but  I  will  sell  only  to  a  member  of 
the  Livingston  family." 

"But,  Senorita,  the  only  member  of  the  family 
is  in  New  York,"  he  protested. 

"Let  her  come  here." 

"But  it  will  take  five-six  days,"  he  began. 

"I  will  live  until  she  comes,"  the  old  woman 
said. 


MARRIED?  137 

"But,  Senorita,  your  strength  may  give  out 
— it  may  be  impossible  for  Miss  Livingston 
to  start  at  once 

"I  have  spoken,  Dennis  Shawn.  If  she  does 
not  come,  the  ranch  goes  to  the  Great  Western 
Railroad  for  the  same  sum." 

She  closed  her  eyes  and  refused  to  answer  any 
question.  She  sat,  like  a  sightless  old  Sybil, 
deaf  to  protest  or  entreaty.  Dennis  finally  with- 
drew, utterly  discouraged  with  his  errand. 

He  wired  Judge  Tracey: 

Senorita  will  sell  for  $5,000,  that  sum  to  be  paid  the 
maid,  but  she  will  sell  only  to  Miss  Livingston,  in  person. 
Great  Western  gets  it  for  same  sum  if  Miss  Livingston 
does  not  come.  Think  she  is  dying.  Is  there  any  way 
I  could  be  made  Miss  Livingston's  representative  or  what 
can  you  suggest? 

DENNIS  SHAWN. 

Chuck  moved  over  to  the  Padrasso's  to  be  on 
guard  against  Great  Western  representatives 
and  also  to  help  the  distracted  old  woman 
who  was  the  maid.  Dennis  was  in  and  out  of 
the  house  every  hour  or  so. 

"She  isn't  dead  yet,"  Chuck  said  to  him, 
when  they  were  waiting  for  the  Judge's  answer. 
"I  went  in  and  sat  with  her  for  an  hour.  I 
thought  she  was  asleep,  but  all  at  once  I  saw  her 


138  MARRIED? 

eyes  on  me,  so  I  began  to  hum  that  old  favourite 
of  hers,  'The  Spanish  Cavalier/  and  the  old 
dear  tried  to  nod  her  head  in  time.  You  know, 
Dennis,  I'm  awfully  fond  of  the  old  thing," 
he  added  huskily. 

"So  am  I,  and  I  think  it  is  damnable  not  to 
let  her  die  in  peace.  I  would  almost  let  the 
Great  Western  get  the  ranch." 

The  Judge's  telegram  brought  consternation. 
It  said: 

Would  you  be  willing  to  go  through  marriage  by  proxy 
with  Miss  Livingston  and  represent  her  as  her  husband 
in  deed  of  sale?  Marriage  can  be  performed  by  con- 
tract and  telephone.  It  would  be  merely  a  legal  form 
to  be  annulled  at  convenience  of  contracting  parties 
later.  Send  me  at  once  properly  accredited  power  of 
attorney.  Find  out  if  Senorita  will  agree  to  this  and 
wire.  We  are  sending  contract,  special  delivery.  We 
will  set  hour  of  ceremony  by  telegram. 

H.  T. 

Dennis  and  Chuck  stared  at  each  other. 

"The  Proxy  Husband!"  exclaimed  the  boy. 

Dennis  stared  at  the  paper. 

"The  Judge  must  have  looked  into  the  legality 
of  this,"  he  muttered.  "But,  good  Lord!  I 
don't  want  to  tie  myself  up " 

"What's  the  difference  since  she  guarantees 


MARRIED?  139 

you  a  divorce?  She's  engaged  to  somebody 
else,  you  know — she  isn't  anxious  to  be  tied 
up,  either." 

Dennis  nodded. 

Williams  came  in  then,  and  they  showed  him 
the  telegram  with  its  extraordinary  proposition. 
For  some  reason  it  amused  him.  But  the  others 
were  too  excited  to  see  anything  humorous 
about  it. 

The  old  lady  groaned  and  Chuck  tiptoed 
to  the  door  to  look  in  at  her. 

"Look  here,  Dennis,  old  man,  if  you  mean  to 
go  through  with  this,  you'll  have  to  hurry. 
She  hasn't  got  many  more  days,"  he  said. 

"Do  you  suppose  she  can  understand  what  I 
say  to  her?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"I'll  stir  her  up  a  bit — she  pays  attention 
to  me,"  Chuck  said. 

They  went  into  her  room  and  Williams  stood 
in  the  doorway.  She  lay  with  closed  eyes  and 
looked  dead. 

"This  is  cruelty  to  animals,"  protested  Den- 
nis. 

Chuck  went  over  to  her  and  laid  his  hand 
gently  on  hers.  " Senorita  mia,  do  you  sleep?" 
he  asked  her. 

At  first  she  showed  no  signs  of  life,  but  when 


140  MARRIED? 

he  had  repeated  it  several  times,  she  turned  her 
eyes  on  him. 

"Now — Dennis,  fire  away!" 

"You're  better,  aren't  you!"  Dennis  ex- 
claimed enthusiastically. 

"Has  Marcia  come?"  She  framed  the  words 
slowly,  her  eyes  on  Dennis. 

"No,  she  cannot  get  here — there  is  not  time. 
If  Marcia  marries  me,  Dennis  Shawn,  will  you 
sell  to  me  as  her  husband?" 

She  stared  at  him. 

"Marry — how?"  she  asked,  showing  that  her 
mind  was  clear. 

"Judge  Tracey  says  she  will  marry  me  by 
long-distance  telephone,  here  at  your  bedside, 
if  you  consent." 

"Legal  marriage?" 

"He  evidently  thinks  so.  He  is  a  lawyer,  you 
know.  He  must  have  looked  up  the  legality." 

They  waited  a  long  time.  They  scarcely 
breathed.  Surely  she  was  dead  now.  There 
seemed  to  be  no  rise  and  fall  of  her  breast  at  all. 
Then  she  opened  her  eyes  again,  as  if  coming 
back  from  a  great  distance. 

"I  agree,"  she  whispered. 

Dennis  tiptoed  out  and  sent  a  boy  in  haste 
with  a  telegram: 


MARRIED?  141 

Sefiorita  agrees.  So  do  I.  Set  earliest  hour  possible 
for  ceremony.  Will  keep  you  posted  on  her  condition. 

D.S. 

Because  of  their  desire  for  secrecy,  the  tele- 
grams were  sent  out  by  messenger  from  the 
town  instead  of  being  telephoned. 

Harrowing  days  began  for  the  three  men  who 
watched  Sefiorita  Padrasso  and  waited  for  the 
contract.  It  came,  was  signed,  witnessed,  and 
sent  back.  Again  and  again  they  thought  she 
was  gone.  Dennis  made  out  the  deed  of  sale 
and  wrote  the  check  for  $5,000,  made  out 
to  the  maid,  Gita  Cavallero.  Everything  was 
in  readiness;  as  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  com- 
pleted it  would  not  take  five  seconds,  if  only 
the  woman  had  strength  enough  left  to  sign 
her  name.  The  day  that  the  contract  should 
reach  New  York  showed  a  change  in  the  sick 
woman.  When,  occasionally,  Dennis  felt  her 
pulse,  it  was  very  feeble.  Once  he  wandered 
out  to  the  kitchen  where  the  old  maid  sat 
weeping. 

"Did  the  sefiorita  ever  see  Miss  Livingston?" 
he  asked  her. 

She  thought  for  a  little — and  answered  in 
Spanish. 

"Yes — when  she  is  a  little  girl — she  come  to 


142  MARRIED? 

Santa  Rosa.  Senorita  call  her  Little  Fairy. 
She  is  beautiful,  and  she  come  every  day  to 
to  see  Senorita.  She  make  love  to  Senorita." 

Dennis  nodded.  It  was  some  remote  affec- 
tion for  the  girl  which  moved  the  old  woman 
then.  But  how  strange  that  she  had  not  made 
a  will  and  deeded  the  ranch  to  her  in  the  usual 
way.  Why  had  she  chosen  this  way,  with  its 
attendant  melodrama,  to  pass  on  her  property? 

The  telephone  rang  and  he  rushed  back  into 
her  room.  Chuck  held  the  receiver,  and  the 
bell  had  apparently  not  aroused  her.  Dennis 
took  the  telegram: 

Contract  signed  here.  Have  connection  with  Padrasso 
house  for  5  P.  M.  Be  ready  for  ceremony  then.  Thanks. 

H.  T. 

"Another  hour,"  groaned  Chuck. 

"Go  call  the  county  clerk  and  tell  him  to  be 
here  at  4:45,"  said  Dennis  to  Williams. 

It  seemed  aeons  as  they  waited  for  those  sixty 
minutes  to  pass.  As  the  minute  hand  ap- 
proached five  on  the  big  clock  the  strain  became 
almost  unbearable. 

"As  soon  as  the  phone  rings  I'll  begin  trying 
to  arouse  her.  I've  got  sherry  here,  if  I  can 
get  her  to  drink  it " 


MARRIED?  143 

Cling-g-g!  went  the  bell  and  they  all  jumped 
with  nervousness. 

Dennis  took  the  receiver. 

"  Padrasso  Ranch  ?  Mr.  Dennis  Shawn  wanted . 
Speaking?  Well — go  ahead,  New  York  is  calling. " 

"Wake  up  Senorita — just  for  a  little  while," 
Chuck  was  urging  her  gently.  "I  want  you 
to  drink  this,  to  the  health  of  Dennis  Shawn 
and  his  bride." 

The  old  eyes  fastened  upon  him.  She  heard 
his  voice  apparently.  He  repeated  it — she  nod- 
ded. Williams  and  the  maid  helped  lift  her  up 
to  drink  the  sherry. 

"Quiet  now — Dennis  is  about  to  be  married." 

"Dennis?"  said  Judge  Tracey. 

"Yes— Judge." 

"Are  you  ready?" 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  witnesses  there?" 

"Yes,  English,  Williams,  and  the  maid. 
Wait — here  comes  the  County  Clerk  also  to 
witness  the  deed  of  sale." 

"Good.  Marcia  is  here  with  me.  Justice 
Allerton  will  perform  the  ceremony.  We  took 
out  the  license  here.  Here  is  the  Justice " 

"Are  you  ready,  Mr.  Shawn?"  a  strange 
voice  asked. 


144  MARRIED? 

"Yes." 

"Do you,  Dennis  Shawn,  take  Marcia  Livings- 
ton to  be  your  wedded  wife?" 

"I  do,"  said  Dennis. 

"Do  you,  Marcia  Livingston  take  Dennis 
Shawn  to  be  your  wedded  husband?"  he  heard 
him  ask  her,  and  her  reply: 

"I  do." 

"Then  I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife,"  he 
said.  "Just  a  moment,"  he  added. 

Then  a  clear  voice  came  over  the  phone: 

"This  is  awfully  obliging  of  you,  Mr.  Dennis 
Shawn. 

" Thank  you.     Good-bye." 

He  hung  up  the  receiver  and  crossed  to  the 
senorita  quickly.  "Here  is  the  deed  of  sale, 
Senorita,  and  here  is  the  check.  Are  you 
strong  enough  to  put  your  name  to  it  here?" 

He  had  to  repeat  it  several  times  before  she 
understood.  Then  she  nodded.  They  lifted  her 
up  and  by  a  prodigious  force  of  will  the  ancient 
woman  took  the  pen  and  wrote  a  large  slanting 
signature  to  the  deed.  Then  she  sank  back,  the 
pen  falling  away  from  her  withered  hand. 

She  looked  at  Dennis  with  a  smile  in  her  eyes. 

"Happiness "  she  whispered. 

Then  she  died. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MARY  JANE  PAUL  came  into  Judge 
Tracey's  office,  by  appointment,  to 
go  over  the  needed  funds  for  the  school. 
She  and  the  Judge  were  joint  guardians  of 
Marcia,  as  it  were,  and  as  such  had  often  met 
before. 

"I  think  I  ought  to  begin  by  saying  that  I 
have  done  my  best  to  persuade  Marcia  not  to 
put  any  more  money  into  this  venture  until 
it  proves  itself,"  she  said. 

"I  may  frankly  say  to  you,  Miss  Paul,  that 
I  disapprove  of  it  and  told  her  so.  Marcia's 
recklessness  with  money  would  wreck  the  Bank 
of  England"  the  Judge  protested. 

"I  know  it,"  sighed  Mary  Jane. 

"I  find  myself  in  a  difficult  position.  Mr. 
Vernon,  the  other  executor,  is  in  Europe,  and 
the  responsibility  of  Marcia's  affairs  falls  on 
me.  In  the  last  two  years  she  has  over-spent 
her  income.  To  as  great  an  extent  as  I  dared 
I  have  put  her  money  into  Santa  Rosa  Ranch, 
which  is  a  very  lucrative  investment — but 

145 


146  MARRIED? 

until  we  make  sure  of  the  Padrasso  Ranch  and  our 
titles  out  there,  I  am  holding  up  any  further 
investment  there." 

She  asked  him  about  those  titles,  saying  that 
Marcia  had  some  garbled  idea  of  it.  He  ex- 
plained it  carefully  and  fully. 

"Judge  Tracey,  do  you  know  what  I  wish 
sometimes?  I  wish  Marcia  would  lose  every 
cent  she  has,  and  have  to  make  good  herself," 
she  said  earnestly. 

"I  know — I  know,"  he  said.  "You  love  her 
as  I  do,  Miss  Paul,  and  we  both  know  that  money 
lias  not  brought  her  happiness." 

"She  is  so  restless  and  unsatisfied.  And  this 
ridiculous  engagement" — she  protested. 

'You  feel  that,  too.     It  seems  such  a  pity 
for  her  to  throw  herself  away  on  that  fellow." 

"Judge  Tracey,  I'd  go  to  any  length  to  break 
that  off!"  she  exclaimed. 

"I'm  tempted  to  tell  you  the  dream  I've 
always  had  for  Marcia,"  he  began. 

"Do,"  she  urged  him. 

"She's  like  a  daughter  to  me,  you  know. 
Her  happiness  is  very  dear  to  me.  I've  studied 
her  for  years — I  know  all  her  faults  and  her 
charms." 

She  nodded. 


MARRIED?  147 

"There  is  only  one  man  I've  met  I'd  want  her 
to  marry.  That  is  Dennis  Shawn." 

"The  manager  of  Santa  Rosa." 

"Yes.  He's  a  fine,  big-hearted,  clear-headed 
man.  He  is  Marcia's  mate,  to  my  mind. 
But  try  as  I  will  I  cannot  bring  them  together. 
She  will  not  go  West,  he  will  not  come  East, 
and  I  can't  interest  either  of  them  in  the  other." 

Mary  Jane  laughed. 

"Can't  we  manage  it  somehow?  Two  intel- 
ligent plotters  like  us?" 

"I'd  go  to  any  length  as  you  say.     Marcia 
needs  direction  and  discipline  with  tenderness— 
that  is  what  Dennis  could  give  her.     He  needs 
what  she  could  give  him.     I  wish  you  could 
see  him,"  he  added. 

"I  wish  I  could!  He  sounds  right  to  me. 
If  I  can  help  in  your  plans,  do  let  me,"  she  said. 

They  went  over  her  reports  and  Marcia's 
demands  and  agreed  on  a  counter  proposal 
which  Mary  Jane  was  to  insist  upon.  When 
she  left,  Judge  Tracey  said: 

"I  may  need  you  in  my  matrimonial  plot, 
so  be  ready  with  support." 

"Count  on  me,  Judge,"  she  smiled. 

It  was  on  the  very  heels  of  this  conversation, 
just  three  days  later,  that  things  began  to 


148  MARRIED? 

happen  at  Santa  Rosa.  When  Dennis's  tele- 
gram came,  telling  the  senorita's  conditions 
of  sale,  and  asking  how  he,  Dennis,  could  be 
made  Miss  Livingston's  representative,  the 
Judge  sat  down  to  think  the  way  out.  One 
plan  after  another  he  discarded,  and  then,  for 
some  unknown  reason,  there  came  into  his 
mind  the  ridiculous  play  he  had  seen  with 
Marcia  called  "The  Proxy  Husband."  His 
first  impulse  was  to  scoff  at  it — his  second  was  to 
consider  it.  He  knew  that  during  the  war 
proxy  marriage  had  been  legalized  in  several 
countries.  In  the  back  of  his  thoughts  was 
the  idea  that  if  he  could  get  these  two  married 
by  proxy,  he  might  manage  to  make  it  a  perma- 
nent affair. 

He  made  a  study  of  marriage  by  proxy. 
He  found  it  was  possible  and  legal  in  states 
where  common-law  marriage  existed;  that  such 
a  marriage  was  legal  and  valid  if  it  conformed 
to  the  law  of  the  place  of  its  celebration.  That 
made  it  possible  in  California.  Common-law 
marriage  was  not  permissible  in  New  York, 
but  fortunately  the  laws  recognized  a  marriage 
by  contract.  If  a  written  contract  of  marriage 
were  signed  by  each  of  the  parties  and  by  two 
witnesses,  with  the  date  and  place  of  marriage, 


MARRIED?  149 

and  this  contract  filed  within  six  months  after 
its  execution,  in  the  office  of  the  clerk  in  which 
the  marriage  was  solemnized,  such  a  marriage 
would  be  legal.  It  would  be  necessary  for 
Dennis  to  give  him  power  of  attorney,  in  order 
for  him  to  go  with  Marcia  and  obtain  the 
license. 

He  found  cases  cited  of  American  soldiers  in 
Europe  married  by  proxy  to  sweethearts  in  the 
United  States.  He  found  a  ruling  of  the  Judge 
Advocate  General  in  March,  1919,  that  soldiers 
held  abroad  could  marry  by  exchange  of  marri- 
age contracts  by  mail,  if  such  marriage  did  not 
controvert  the  state  statutes. 

He  made  out  his  case  and  summoned  Mr. 
Stewart,  the  lawyer  of  the  other  executor,  and 
laid  it  before  him.  He  considered  it  carefully. 

"Judge,  I  think  the  marriage  would  stand,  but 
is  it  your  intention  to  nullify  it  at  the  end  of  the 
six  months,  when  the  contract  should  be  filed?" 

Judge  Tracey  hesitated. 

"Stewart,  I  don't  intend  it  shall  ever  be  nul- 
lified. I'm  taking  an  awful  chance  in  this — I 
may  get  myself  into  trouble,  but  those  two 
people  are  very  dear  to  me;  they  are  made  for 
each  other;  I  think  that  if  they  can  be  brought 
together  they  will  stay  married." 


150  MARRIED? 

"Upon  my  word,  Judge,  you  are  mixing  up 
law  and  romance!" 

"I  know  it.  I'm  trying  to  play  God  and  I 
may  be  destroyed." 

They  went  over  it  in  detail — they  faced  the 
possibility  of  suit  by  the  Great  Western  when 
the  marriage  was  discovered,  and  against  Stew- 
art's better  judgment  Judge  Tracey  wired 
Dennis  to  send  him,  special  delivery,  power  of 
attorney,  properly  witnessed  and  signed  by  a 
notary.  He  and  Stewart  drew  up  a  marriage 
contract.  It  was  dispatched  to  Dennis  for 
signature  and  on  its  return  the  Judge  was  to 
induce  Marcia  to  sign  it. 

"I  don't  envy  you  that  job,  Judge,"  laughed 
Stewart. 

"If  the  old  woman  just  holds  out  a  few  days 
more,"  sighed  Judge  Tracey.  "If  we  make  it, 
Stewart,  I  think  I'll  have  them  married  by 
telephone,  too." 

"Not  necessary." 

"No,  but  it  dramatizes  it  to  them — makes 
it  seem  more  personal." 

"Judge,  if  you  get  away  with  this,  it  beats  any 
big  case  you've  ever  won!"  pronounced  Stewart. 

It  looked  as  if  the  Judge  would  get  away  with 
it.  First  came  the  power  of  attorney  from 


MARRIED?  151 

Dennis  to  the  Judge,  with  news  that  the  old 
woman  was  sinking.  Anxious  days  of  waiting 
and  then  the  contract  canie — then  a  telegram 
that  the  end  was  near. 

The  Judge  had  said  as  yet  no  word  to  Marcia. 
His  plan  was  to  rush  her  into  this  rash  deed  on 
the  plea  of  immediate  necessity.  He  telephoned 
Mary  Jane  Paul  to  meet  him  at  Marcia's  house 
at  a  certain  hour. 

"The  time  has  come.  I  need  you,"  was  his 
cryptic  message. 

They  arrived  together  at  the  Livingston  house. 

"I'm  to  be  scolded  for  extravagance!" 
prophesied  Marcia  at  sight  of  them. 

"No — important  and  very  urgent  business 
this  time,  Marcia.  You  remember  what  I 
told  you  about  the  necessity  of  our  acquiring 
the  Padrasso  Ranch?" 

"Yes." 

"The  old  woman  is  dying.  She  will  sell  for 
$5,000,  paid  to  her  servant,  if  she  can  put  the 
deed  of  sale  into  your  hand." 

"But  I  can't  get  to  California  in  a  minute." 

"Exactly.  She  has,  therefore,  agreed  to  sell 
to  Dennis  Shawn,  if  you  will  marry  him  by 
proxy,  and  authorize  your  husband  to  represent 
you." 


152  MARRIED? 

Marcia  stared. 

"It's  preposterous!"  she  exclaimed. 

"It  is  merely  a  formality.  The  marriage 
can  be  annulled  in  six  months,  at  the  time  when 
it  should  be  registered." 

"Then  we  are  to  swindle  the  old  woman?" 

"That's  a  harsh  word!  She  has  no  possible 
heir — she  can  do  as  she  likes  with  her  estate, 
and  she  agrees  to  this.  We  are  trying  to  save 
a  huge  investment  in  Santa  Rosa  by  agreeing 
to  an  old  woman's  whim!" 

He  explained  the  process  of  such  a  marriage, 
read  the  law,  pointed  at  the  necessity  of  quick 
action,  and  waited  Marcia's  decision. 

"Clarke  would  never  agree  to  it,"  she  said. 

"Tell  him  afterward,"  said  Mary  Jane. 

"Do  you  think  it's  square?"  Marcia  demanded 
of  her. 

"No.  But  as  a  sporting  proposition  I  think 
it's  immense." 

"No  more  theatres,  no  more  endowed  schools 
to  play  with,  Marcia,  if  Santa  Rosa  goes," 
remarked  the  Judge. 

"Oh,  but  I  have  to  finish  the  school!  Oh, 
damn  Santa  Rosa — it  makes  so  much  trouble! 
You're  sure  this  is  just  a  'sign-here'  thing  without 
any  consequences?" 


MARRIED?  153 

"Nobody  on  earth  could  guarantee  that," 
said  the  Judge. 

"What  do  I  have  to  do?" 

"Come  with  me  to  get  a  license,  sign  this 
contract,  and  be  married  by  telephone  in  the 
office  of  a  justice." 

Marcia  laughed. 

"Judge  Horace,  it's  too  ridiculous!  It's  worse 
than  that  farce  we  saw!" 

He  looked  at  his  watch  and  rose. 

"I  have  a  taxi  here.  I  wired  Dennis  to  be 
ready  and  I  put  in  a  call  for  Santa  Rosa  at 
five  P.  M." 

"You  did  count  on  me,  didn't  you?"  re- 
marked Marcia. 

"I  thought  you  would  be  mad  not  to  agree," 
he  answered. 

They  went  on  their  way  quickly.  Mary 
Jane  could  scarcely  meet  Judge  Tracey's  eyes 
without  exchange  of  triumphant  glances.  They 
got  the  license,  the  contract  was  signed  and 
witnessed — at  exactly  five  o'clock  the  telephone 
call  went  through. 

"You  act  as  bridesmaid,  Mary  Jane,"  laughed 
Marcia. 

The  Justice  stood  by,  while  the  Judge  spoke 
to  Dennis. 


154  MARRIED? 

"Are  you  ready,  Dennis?  .  .  .  Have  you 
witnesses  there?" 

Then  the  Justice  took  the  receiver.  Marcia 
was  shaking  with  laughter,  but  the  other  two 
were  serious. 

"Do  you,  Dennis  Shawn,  take  Marcia  Livings- 
ton to  be  your  wedded  wife?"  asked  the  pompous 
justice. 

Marcia  stopped  laughing  and  looked  at  the 
Judge. 

"Look  here,"  she  said. 

"Sh!" 

"Do,  you,  Marcia  Livingston,  take  Dennis 
Shawn  to  be  your  wedded  husband  ?  "  he  asked  her. 

She  hesitated  a  second.  The  Judge  and 
Mary  Jane  anxiously  signalled  her  to  speak. 

"Y — yes,"  she  said  doubtfully. 

"Then  I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife," 
said  the  impressive  one. 

She  reached  for  the  receiver. 

"This  is  awfully  obliging  of  you,  Mr.  Dennis 
Shawn!" 

"The  rude  thing,"  she  added,  "he  hung  up." 

She  turned  to  speak  to  the  Justice,  and  Mary 
Jane  Paul  spoke  for  the  first  time  to  the  Judge : 

"You  delightful  wicked  old  Machiavelli ! " 

"If  it  only  works  out!"  he  said,  as  if  in  prayer. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

TEN  days  after  the  death  of  Senorita 
Padrasso  Dennis  received  a  long-dis- 
tance telephone  from  Los  Angeles  from 
the  Western  manager  of  the  Great  Western 
saying  that  he  would  like  to  make  an  appoint- 
ment the  following  day  to  see  Shawn  in  regard 
to  some  important  business.  Shawn  set  an 
hour  and  offered  to  meet  him  at  the  train  with 
a  motor.  Then  he  wired  Judge  Tracey  for 
instructions. 

"Well,  boys,  the  fat  is  in  the  fire,"  he  said 
that  night,  to  his  two  assistants.  "Mr.  John 
Maxwell,  of  the  Great  Western,  is  to  visit  me 
to-morrow  and  try  to  find  out  what  we  have 
put  over  on  them.  I've  asked  the  Judge  to  tell 
me  what  to  say,  but  I  wish  we  were  out  of  this 
mess." 

"/  don't.  I  never  knew  life  could  be  so  ex- 
citing," exclaimed  Chuck. 

"Yes — well,  you  aren't  married  to  an  unknown 
lady  with  erratic  tendencies,"  remarked  Williams 
drily. 

155 


156  MARRIED? 

"No — worse  luck." 

"Of  course,  Judge  Tracey  knows  what  he's 
about,  but  the  whole  thing  sounds  awfully 
fishy  to  me.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  make  it 
sound  anything  else  to  this  Maxwell.  He's 
nobody's  fool,  you  know." 

"The  worst  they  can  do  would  be  to  prove 
the  marriage  illegal,"  said  Williams. 

"That  would  invalidate  the  deed — and  then 
where  are  you?  They  say  the  titles  to  Santa 
Rosa  can't  be  proved  up  till  this  other  ranch 
is  settled." 

"The  property  would  revert  to  the  state  and 
the  bidding  would  begin  again,"  Williams  an- 
swered. "After  all,  suppose  the  Great  Western 
does  get  it?" 

"It  would  mean  thousands  and  thousands 
of  dollars  to  the  Livingstons." 

"Suppose  it  does.  The  woman  is  outrage- 
ously rich — let  her  lose  it." 

"The  woman?  Oh — I  wasn't  thinking  about 
her,"  Dennis  said.  "I  was  only  thinking  of 
Santa  Rosa  and  how  the  loss  of  that  land  would 
cripple  it." 

"Dennis  always  thinks  of  Santa  Rosa  first, 
last,  and  altogether!  You'd  think  he  owned  it," 
said  Chuck. 


MARRIED?  157 

"Well,  I've  developed  it  for  ten  years.  I've 
put  every  ounce  of  myself  into  it.  It  isn't 
surprising  that  I  think  of  it  like  that,  is  it?" 

"No,  considering  that  you  are  what  you  are. 
I  only  hope  you  haven't  let  yourself  in  for  any- 
thing painful  by  this  fake  marriage,"  commented 
Williams. 

"That's  just  a  legal  form.  The  ceremony 
can  be  annulled  in  six  months  or  so — and  that's 
all  there  is  to  that  end  of  it." 

"Maybe,"  Williams  said  doubtfully. 

"Don't  you  ever  expect  to  see  your  wedded 
wife  while  she  wears  your  name,  Dennis?" 
demanded  Chuck. 

"Lord — no!"  ejaculated  the  Irishman. 

Judge  Tracey's  directions  were: 

Tell  Maxwell  deed  of  sale  was  signed  by  Senorita 
Padrasso  witnessed  by  Williams,  English,  and  County 
Clerk.  Properly  registered  in  County  Clerk's  office  and 
deed  in  our  possession  here.  No  necessity  to  explain 
marriage.  Say  that  you  acted  as  representative  of  the 
Livingston  estate.  Marriage  absolutely  legal  but  need 
not  be  announced  for  six  months  which  time  may  be 
valuable  to  us.  Wire  me  result  of  interview. 

Dennis  sent  Chuck  to  meet  Maxwell's  train. 
Affable  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  gentleman 
to  glean  information  from  his  voluble  chauffeur 


158  MARRIED? 

arrived  nowhere.  Chuck  winked  at  Dennis 
as  he  handed  their  guest  over  to  him. 

After  brief  amenities  the  four  men  sat  down 
and  lit  their  cigars. 

"Mr.  Shawn,  my  time  is  brief,  and  I  may  as 
well  come  to  the  point  of  this  visit.  Are  these 
gentlemen  in  your  confidence?"  inquired  Mr. 
Maxwell. 

"Absolutely." 

"Very  good.  As  you  have  probably  guessed, 
my  visit  has  to  do  with  the  late  acquisition  of 
the  Padrasso  Ranch  by  the  owners  of  Santa 
Rosa." 

:<Yes,"  said  Dennis. 

"The  Great  Western  Railroad  and  the  Living- 
stons have  been  honourable  contestants  for  the 
purchase  of  this  property  for  over  a  hundred 
years " 

"More  or  less  honourable,"  Dennis  inter- 
rupted. 

"You  mean  by  that?" 

"I  mean  that  few  people  would  call  the 
method  of  the  Great  Western  in  the  last  dozen 
years  to  get  possession  of  the  Padrasso  property 
honourable" 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean!" 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do.     You've  had  spies  here, 


MARRIED?  159 

ostensibly  in  our  employ;  you've  backed  up 
an  effort  to  get  rid  of  me;  you've  had  secret 
agents,  such  as  Roderiguez  and  bogus  heiresses, 
such  as  his  mistress — all  to  the  end  of  acquiring 
that  property." 

Mr.  Maxwell's  urbane  face  never  changed 
expression. 

"I  assure  you,  Mr.  Shawn,  that  I  never  heard 
of  any  of  these  things.  It  is  impossible  that 
they  should  go  on  without  my  knowledge." 

"Be  that  as  it  may — they  have  happened. 
These  two  men  here  will  corroborate  my  state- 
ment any  time  it  becomes  necessary." 

"Well,  I  hope  that  time  may  not  come.  If 
any  unfortunate  and  unwarranted  liberties  have 
been  taken  by  my  underlings,  it  shall  be  in- 
vestigated and  punished.  In  the  meantime^ 
the  past  is  past — is  it  not?" 

"Sure.  I'm  not  worrying  about  it.  I  just 
couldn't  swallow  that  'honourable' — that's  all." 

Mr.  Maxwell  smiled  a  most  disturbing  smile. 

"They  say,  you  know,  that  there  is  honour 
among  thieves,"  he  remarked.  "Do  you  be- 
lieve that,  Mr.  Shawn?" 

"I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  I  haven't  had  much 
experience  with — thieves." 

"No?" 


160  MARRIED? 

Dennis  felt  himself  getting  hot  all  over,  but  he 
merely  glared  at  Maxwell. 

"May  I  ask  just  how  and  by  what  means  the 
Padrasso  property  came  into  the  possession 
of  the  Livingstons?" 

"By  a  deed  of  sale,  signed  by  Senorita  Pa- 
drasso, witnessed  by  Mr.  Williams,  Mr.  English, 
the  senorita's  servant,  and  the  clerk  of  this 
county." 

"Oh.     To  whom  was  the  property  sold?" 

"To  Miss  Livingston.  I  acted  as  her  rep- 
resentative." 

"In  what  capacity?" 

"The  capacity  of  superintendent  and  manager 
of  the  Santa  Rosa  Ranch." 

"Exactly.  Would  it  be  too  indiscreet  to  ask 
the  price  paid?" 

"Yes,  I  cannot  see  what  affair  that  is  of  the 
Great  Western  Railroad." 

"This  deed  of  sale  was  signed  by  the  Senorita 
Padrasso,  you  say.  Just  when  was  it  signed?" 

"Shortly  before  she  died." 

"How  shortly?  Was  she  on  her  death  bed 
when  she  signed  it?" 

"Yes.  If  you  have  any  doubts  about  this 
being  a  legitimate  sale,  you  can  se'e  the  record 
of  it  in  the  County  Clerk's  office.  The  deed 


MARRIED?  161 

itself  is  in  the  possession  of  Judge  Horace  Tracey 
in  New  York." 

"Ah — yes — Judge  Tracey — most  able  man. 
Was  it  at  his  suggestion  that  this  death-bed 
sale  was  consummated?"  smiled  Mr.  Max- 
well. 

"That  I  also  consider  no  business  of  the  Great 
Western." 

"Indeed?  There  were  no  witnesses  to  this 
sale  except  Livingston  employees?" 

"The  County  Clerk  and  the  senorita's  ser- 
vant." 

"She  tells  me  of  the  senorita's  offer — that  if 
Miss  Livingston  did  not  come,  the  ranch  was 
to  go  to  the  Great  Western  Company  at  $5,000, 
to  be  paid  to  her." 

"She  tells  you?" 

"Ah,  yes,  I  have  seen  the  servant.  She  seems 
unsure  of  her  mistress's  sanity  at  the  time  of  her 
death." 

"She  was  as  sane  as  you  are!"  exclaimed 
Dennis. 

"That  you  will  have  to  prove,  Mr.  Shawn. 
We  have  here  the  signed  statement  of  the 
servant  and  of  the  County  Clerk.  The  one  re- 
hearses your  constant  effort  to  get  the  old  lady 
to  agree  to  sell  her  property  to  your  employer — 


162  MARRIED? 

it  tells  of  your  continual  presence  in  her  house 
and  at  her  bedside.  It  describes  the  pressure 
brought  to  bear  upon  her " 

"That's  a  lie!"  quietly,  from  Dennis. 

"Just  a  moment,  Mr.  Shawn.  The  clerk 
describes  your  marriage,  by  telephone,  to  Miss 
Marcia  Livingston,  in  order  that  you  might 
induce  the  old  woman  to  sell  to  you  as  Miss 
Livingston's  husband." 

He  paused. 

"Have  you  any  comment  to  make,  Mr. 
Shawn?" 

"None  except  that  those  two  statements 
must  have  cost  you  a  pretty  price." 

"You  do  not  deny  the  contents  of  the  state- 
ments?" 

"I  deny  that  Senorita  Padrasso  was  anything 
but  in  her  right  mind.  I  deny  that  I  brought 
any  pressure  to  bear  upon  her." 

"These  denials  you  will  no  doubt  repeat  in 
the  proper  time  and  place,  Mr.  Shawn." 

He  put  the  two  papers  carefully  away  in  his 
breast  pocket. 

"The  Great  Western  will  start  suit  at  once 
against  Miss  Livingston,  Judge  Tracey,  and 
yourself  for  having  entered  into  a  conspiracy 
to  get  possession  of  the  Padrasso  property 


MARRIED?  163 

by  illegal  means,  including  a  fake  marriage, 
intended  to  mislead  your  elderly  victim." 

Dennis  rose,  making  no  comment  at  all, 
looked  at  his  watch,  and  turned  to  Chuck. 

"Mr.  Maxwell  can  just  catch  the  4:10  train, 
if  you  hurry  a  little,  Chuck.  You'll  be  a 
trifle  late  to  file  your  suit  to-night,  but  there's 
all  day  to-morrow,"  he  said  genially  to  his  guest. 

Mr.  Maxwell  bowed  silently,  stepped  into 
the  car,  and  was  whirled  away  by  Chuck  at  a 
perilous  speed. 

"Whew ! "  said  Williams.  "Looks  as  if  Chuck 
was  planning  to  kill  him  on  the  way  back." 

"That  won't  save  us.  We're  in  for  it  this 
time.  Why  didn't  I  buy  up  that  servant  my- 
self! I  thought  her  five  thousand  would  shut 
her  up!"  said  Dennis  seriously. 

He  put  in  a  call  for  New  York  and  at  midnight 
he  got  Judge  Tracey.  He  repeated  the  conver- 
sation with  Maxwell  and  his  threat  of  suit. 
Judge  Tracey  was  evidently  annoyed  at  this 
news. 

"Dennis,  can  English  and  Williams  manage 
the  ranch  for  a  bit?" 

"I  suppose  so,  why?" 

"I  think  you  had  better  start  East  to-morrow. 
We  must  get  this  thing  straightened  out  and  I 


164  MARRIED? 

want  expert  advice  on  it.  We  won't  keep  you 
long  but  I  want  you  here.  Can  you  manage  it?  " 

"Yes — if  you  think  it  is  necessary." 

"I  do.  You  start  to-morrow  and  let  me  know 
the  minute  you  arrive.  Shall  I  put  you  up  at  a 
club?" 

"That  would  be  kind,  Judge." 

"Call  me  when  you  get  in  then.     Good-bye.'* 

Dennis  hung  up  the  receiver  with  a  sigh. 
His  troubled  face  made  Williams  exclaim: 

"More  trouble,  Dennis?" 

"Yes.  I've  got  to  start  for  New  York  to- 
morrow." 

"Trouble !  He  calls  that  trouble ! "  cried  Chuck. 

"I  wish  the  Great  Western  had  the  damned  old 
ranch!"  said  Dennis. 

"You'll  see  Mrs.  Shawn,"  Chuck  remarked. 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it — and  don't  call  her  that!" 
said  Dennis  crossly. 

He  went  off  to  his  room,  and  later  when  Chuck 
knocked  with  an  offer  to  lend  him  anything  he 
needed,  he  found  Dennis  viciously  throwing 
socks  and  collars  and  shirts  into  a  bag. 

"Look  here,  Dennis.  This  is  a  card  with  the 
address  of  my  tailor.  The  minute  you  strike 
town  you  order  some  clothes — street  clothes 
and  evening  clothes " 


MARRIED?  165 

"I'm  not  goin'  down  there  to  parade  my 
clothes!" 

"If  you  go  to  see  Miss  Livingston  in  those 
hand-me-downs  you  brought  in  Los  Angeles, 
in  ten  minutes,  while  you  waited  for  a  train ' 

"I  tell  you,  I'm  not  going  to  see  Miss  Livings- 
ton!" 

"You're  going  to  handle  a  pretty  ticklish 
situation,  and  with  that  kind  of  a  woman  you've 
got  to  have  the  right  kind  of  clothes.  Now 
don't  be  an  ass.  This  card  is  in  your  collar  box. 
You  use  it." 

Dennis  glared  at  him,  but  the  card  remained 
in  the  box. 

The  next  morning  the  two  men  saw  him  off 
at  the  village  station.  He  was  furious  at  the 
complication  he  found  himself  in,  and  his  irrita- 
tion was  all  in  his  face,  as  the  train  pulled  out. 

"He  doesn't  look  much  like  the  conquering 
bridegroom!"  said  Chuck,  as  he  and  Williams 
turned  back  toward  the  ranch. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

DENNIS  SHAWN  had  five  tedious  days 
in  which  to  mull  over  the  crisis  in  which 
he  found  himself.  He  did  not  minimize 
its  seriousness  at  all.  As  he  went  back  over  the 
steps  that  led  up  to  it  he  could  not  see  where  he 
could  have  acted  otherwise  than  he  had  done, 
considering  his  devotion  to  Santa  Rosa  Ranch 
and  his  ambition  to  have  it  saved  and  enriched 
by  the  added  acres.  At  any  rate,  he  could  not 
reproach  himself  with  any  personal  motives, 
for  he  had  absolutely  nothing  to  gain,  except 
the  thanks  of  Judge  Tracey  and  possibly  of 
Miss  Livingston. 

If  only  he  and  Judge  Tracey  could  settle 
this  thing  without  her  complicating  participa- 
tion. He  realized,  now  that  he  was  calmer, 
that  the  chances  were  he  would  have  to  meet 
her — that  she  would  have  to  be  included  in 
the  councils. 

He  reconsidered  also  Chuck's  suggestion  about 
his  clothes  and  to  his  own  amusement  he  de- 
cided to  accept  it.  If  he  was  to  share  a  difficult 

166 


MARRIED?  167 

situation  with  this  lady,  he  determined  that 
she  should  not  have  him  at  a  disadvantage. 
Consequently,  when  he  arrived  in  New  York, 
before  he  so  much  as  telephoned  Judge  Tracey, 
he  took  a  cab  to  the  address  Chuck  had  put 
in  his  collar  box,  and  demanded  of  the  tailor 
proper  clothes  for  all  occasions  for  a  fortnight  in 
New  York  to  be  rushed  through  at  special  rates 
of  both  speed  and  cash. 

Then  he  announced  himself  to  the  Judge 
and  went  to  the  Metropolitan  Club,  where  the 
latter  had  promised  to  meet  him.  The  Judge 
brought  with  him  two  lawyers :  Stewart,  the  rep- 
resentative of  the  other  executor  of  the  estate 
who  was  in  Europe,  and  a  man  named  Troop. 
Dennis  was  most  warmly  greeted  by  his  employer 
and  they  all  adjourned  to  the  Judge's  room  for  a 
conference. 

Judge  Tracey  asked  Dennis  to  sketch  for  the 
two  lawyers  the  state  of  affairs  at  Santa  Rosa 
and  the  methods  which  the  Great  Western 
had  employed.  Shawn  outlined  the  story — 
described  his  friendly  relations  with  Senorita 
Padrasso,  and  when  it  came  to  the  description 
of  what  had  happened  the  day  of  her  death, 
he  read  a  report  which  he  and  his  two  assistants 
had  written  out  the  evening  of  the  old  woman's 


168  MARRIED? 

death,  repeating  everything  that  had  been 
said,  describing  everything  that  had  been 
done.  It  was  signed  by  English  and  Williams. 

They  catechized  Dennis  as  to  the  details 
and  he  went  over  it  until  everything  was  clear. 
Then  he  took  up  the  matter  of  Maxwell's 
visit  and  again  read  from  a  statement  signed 
by  the  other  two  men  as  to  what  took  place 
and  the  exact  words  of  Maxwell's  threat. 

"Well,  he's  made  good  on  it.  I  had  notice 
this  morning  that  suit  was  instigated  against 
me,  and  Miss  Livingston  had  the  same,  sent 
to  my  office.  Yours  will  follow  in  good  time, 
Dennis,"  said  the  Judge. 

"Is  the  senorita's  servant  still  at  the  ranch?" 
asked  Mr.  Troop,  one  of  the  lawyers. 

"She  was  when  I  left." 

"We'd  better  telegraph  Williams  to  keep  an  eye 
on  her  and  not  let  her  disappear,"  said  the  Judge. 

They  agreed  to  that  and  Dennis  wrote  the 
telegram,  which  was  sent  at  once. 

"You  made  no  effort  to  induce  the  County 
Clerk  to  keep  the  marriage  a  secret?"  asked 
Stewart,  the  third  man. 

"No.  I  relied  on  the  Judge's  assurance 
that  it  was  a  legal  form.  I  thought  it  better 
not  to  try  to  suppress  anything." 


MARRIED?  169 

"That  was  right,  don't  you  think  so,  Judge?" 

"Yes,  we  can  establish  a  proper  and  bona- 
fide  sale  of  the  ranch,  I  think,  if  the  legality 
of  the  marriage  stands.  You  think  we're  pretty 
safe  on  that,  Stewart?" 

"Unfortunately,  as  I  told  you,  Judge,  there 
isn't  much  precedent  to  rely  on,"  Stewart 
answered  dubiously. 

"I  think  one  thing  is  obvious,"  said  Troop, 
"and  that  is,  that  this  marriage  must  be  lived 
up  to,  to  all  intent  and  purposes,  until  after 
the  case  comes  to  trial." 

"What  did  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded 
Dennis  quickly. 

"I  mean  that  you  and  Miss  Livingston  must 
at  least  simulate  a  marriage.  You  should,  I 
think,  live  under  the  same  roof." 

"But  I  could  not  agree  to  that  at  all!" 
said  Dennis  firmly. 

"Then,  I  think  we  should  face  the  fact  that 
we  are  in  a  most  unfortunate  situation  in  which 
the  honour  of  Judge  Tracey  and  Miss  Livingston 
is  endangered." 

"What  about  my  honour?"  inquired  Dennis. 

"And  yours,  too,  Mr.  Shawn.  I  do  not  under- 
value your  predicament  at  all.  I  only  mention 
Judge  Tracey  and  Miss  Livingston  first,  because 


170  MARRIED? 

they  are  so  much  in  the  public  eye,  and  have  so 
much  more  to  lose.  This  suit  may  be  most  dis- 
astrous to  Judge  Tracey,  Any  accusation  of 
fraud  or  attempted  fraud  to  a  man  in  his  posi- 
tion  " 

"But,"  said  Dennis,  deeply  troubled,  "even 
if  I  agreed  to  this  arrangement,  certainly  Miss 
Livingston  would  not." 

"What  about  that,  Judge?" 

"I'm  afraid  Dennis  is  right." 

"But  if  she  thought  it  would  save  you  from 
embarrassment — possibly  disgrace " 

"I  should  not  wish  her  to  act  against  her 
desires  to  protect  me  in  this  matter,"  protested 
the  Judge. 

"I  wouldn't  worry,  Judge.  That  young  woman 
has  never  done  anything  yet  against  her  de- 
sires," said  Mr.  Stewart. 

"It  is  a  little  awkward  for  her.  She  is 
engaged  to  some  fellow,  isn't  she?"  inquired 
Troop. 

"Yes — Jessup.  Clarke  Jessup,"  replied  the 
Judge.  "We  could  not  find  him  at  the  time 
of  the  ceremony,  but  Miss  Livingston  prophesied 
that  he  would  not  approve  her  action." 

"Could  we  induce  Miss  Livingston  to  meet 
us  and  discuss  the  matter?"  Stewart  asked. 


MARRIED?  171 

"I  doubt  it.  I  think  you  had  better  let  me 
see  her " 

"I  disagree  there.  You  won't  use  the  only 
argument  that  might  have  weight  with  her — 
your  position  in  this  affair " 

"But  if  Dennis,  here,  refuses,  why  do  we  waste 
time  on  Miss  Livingston?  We'd  better  just 
make  our  plans  to " 

Dennis  turned  a  serious,  troubled  face  to  the 
Judge. 

"Judge  Tracey,  I  had  not  thought  of  what 
this  might  mean  to  you.  I  withdraw  my  re- 
fusal. If  Miss  Livingston  will  agree  to  any 
arrangement  you  may  make,  I  will  agree  also." 

Judge  Tracey  held  out  his  hand,  real  feeling 
in  his  face. 

"Thank  you,  my  boy.  I  appreciate  that — 
but  I  want  to  get  it  out  of  all  your  minds  that 
I  am  the  person  to  be  considered  here.  I'll 
take  my  chances  with  the  rest.  I  have  not 
connived  at  a  fraud.  I  consider  that  I  have 
acted  throughout  in  good  faith.  Now,  as  to 
Miss  Livingston,  I'll  promise  nothing  but  I'll  do 
my  best.  She  will  be  at  home  late  to-morrow 
afternoon,  I  learned  from  her  butler,  and  I  will 
see  her  then.  Shall  we  arrange  to  meet  at  my 
office  at  eleven — the  following  morning?" 


172  MARRIED? 

It  was  so  settled,  and  Troop  and  Stewart  left. 

With  an  intuitive  sense  of  failure  Judge 
Tracey  waited  the  next  afternoon  for  Marcia 
to  appear.  He  noted  that  the  tea  things  were 
in  readiness  and  hoped  against  hope  that  there 
were  to  be  no  guests.  \ 

"Judge — how  nice  of  you!"  she  cried  as  she 
crossed  the  room  to  him,  very  lovely  in  her  soft 
tea  gown. 

He  took  her  hands  and  looked  at  her  seriously. 

"  I've  come  on  a  most  difficult  errand,  Marcia." 

She  frowned. 

"Not  that  ranch?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  won't  hear  about  it — not  a  word. 
I'm  sick  of  it." 

"I'm  afraid  you  must  hear  about  it,  Marcia. 
It  is  exceedingly  serious." 

He  went  on  to  explain  the  suit  of  the  Great 
Western  and  reminded  her  of  its  possible 
consequences  to  them  all. 

"Now,  look  here,  Judge,  you  told  me  that 
marriage  business  was  a  legal  formality,  like 
signing  a  deed.  That's  the  only  reason  I  agreed 
to  it.  Clarke  is  perfectly  furious  about  it.  You 
got  me  into  that,  Judge,  and  you've  got  to  get 
me  out." 


MARRIED?  173 

"That's  what  I  want  to  do,  but  I  must  have 
your  help." 

"Well"— with  a  sigh— "go  ahead." 

"Dennis  Shawn  arrived  in  New  York  yester- 
day, and  Mr.  Stewart,  Mr.  Vernon's  lawyer, 
and  Mr.  Troop,  whom  you  know,  and  myself 
listened  to  Shawn's  description  of  the  whole 
affair.  I  have  no  idea  that  we  can  be  convicted 
of  fraud,  because  we  acted  with  no  such  intention, 
but  it  was  the  opinion  of  these  two  very  astute 
lawyers  that,  since  the  whole  situation  rests 
on  the  legality  of  the  proxy  marriage,  care  must 
be  used  to  establish  the  fact  of  marriage 

"Don't  be  legal — I  never  understand  it," 
she  interrupted. 

"They  think  it  would  be  wiser,  if  not  ab- 
solutely necessary,  for  you  and  Dennis  Shawn 
at  least  to  simulate  marriage  until  after  the 
case  comes  to  trial." 

Her  look  of  utter  astonishment  halted  him. 

"What  nonsense  are  you  saying,  Judge 
Tracey?" 

"No  nonsense — very  serious  sense." 

"You  mean  I'm  to— to " 

"The  suggestion  was  merely  that  you  take 
up  residence  under  the  same  roof. " 

"But  I've  never  seen  the  creature!" 


174  MARRIED? 

"Under  the  law  a  proxy  marriage  need  not 
be  announced  for  six  months  subsequent  to 
the  ceremony — but  on  account  of  this  suit, 
it  seems  necessary  to  act  at  once. " 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  this  Sham,  or 
whatever  his  name  is,  can  come  on  here  and 
claim  to  be  married  to  me?'9 

"On  the  contrary,  he  is  as  reluctant  to  carry 
out  this  idea  as  you  are!" 

"Is  he?  Indeed!  Well,  do  assure  him  that  he 
will  not  have  me  forced  upon  him,  as  even  a 
'simulated'  bride!  I've  never  heard  anything 
so  ridiculous  in  my  life!  Why,  I  wouldn't 
agree  to  this,  if  it  meant  that  I'd  lose  every 
cent  I've  got  in  the  world!" 

"It  looks  very  much  as  if  that  might  be  the 
price  you'd  pay,  Marcia!" 

But  she  was  very  angry  now,  and  Judge 
Tracey  knew  his  case  was  lost.  He  rose. 

"All  right,  Marcia,  we  will  defend  the  suit 
as  best  we  can.  You  and  I  may  be  pretty 
badly  discredited,  and  your  loss  of  Santa  Rosa 
is  very  serious,  but  I  guess  we  can  bear  that." 

"I  don't  care  what  happens — you  advised  me 
to  do  this  fool  thing  and  you  can  find  some  way 
out!" 

"I  suppose  you  wouldn't  see  Mr.  Shawn?" 


MARRIED?  175 

"I  wouldn't  see  that  man  for  anything  on 
earth.  I  loathe  him!" — hotly. 

"Well,  my  dear,  I'm  sorry  to  have  upset 
you  so,"  said  poor  Judge  Tracey,  taking  his 
leave. 

He  went  to  the  club  in  search  of  Dennis,  but 
he  was  not  there.  He  had  left  word,  however, 
that  he  would  return  about  five-thirty — so 
the  Judge  paced  up  and  down  the  corridors 
impatiently.  Presently  Dennis  came  in.  Even 
the  Judge,  perturbed  as  he  was,  noted  that  he 
was  wearing  new  clothes  and  hat  and  that  he 
even  carried  gloves. 

"Hello,  Judge.  Don't  I  look  like  a  tailor's 
model?  I've  got  me  some  New  York  clothes." 

Then  he  saw  the  Judge's  worried  face. 

"What's  the  matter?  Did  you  see  Miss  Liv- 
ingston?" 

"Yes.  She  was  very  angry.  She  won't  hear 
of  any  such  arrangement." 

"You  told  her  the  consequences?" 

"I  told  her,  but  I  doubt  that  she  listened." 

"I'd  better  see  her." 

"No,  Dennis,  she  absolutely  refuses  to  see 
you.  She  seems  to  blame  you  in  the  matter — 
unreasonable  as  that  is " 

"Rubbish — what's  her  address?" 


176  MARRIED? 

"I  don't  advise  this,  Dennis,"  he  added 
weakly. 

"Better  wait  for  me  here.  I'll  be  back  in 
half  an  hour  or  so." 

"Well,"  sighed  Judge  Tracey,  "God  be  with 
you ! "  But  the  twinkle  in  his  eye,  and  the  smile 
of  satisfaction  aimed  at  Dennis's  back,  belied 
those  earnest  words. 


CHAPTER  XV 

MARCIA  LIVINGSTON  had  rarely  been 
so  angry  in  her  life  as  she  was  when 
Judge  Tracey  left  her.  It  was  her 
basic  principle  to  dominate  every  situation, 
and  suddenly  to  find  herself  involved  in  a 
crisis  in  which  she  had  acted  under  orders  was 
disconcerting  and  infuriating.  But  she  had 
no  intention  of  submitting  to  any  such  in- 
dignity. Life  had  never  disciplined  Marcia 
— she  had  always  bought  immunity  with  her 
money. 

Mary  Jane  Paul  came  in,  during  the  brain- 
storm, and  received  a  perfect  avalanche  of 
angry  explanations  from  Marcia  about  the 
outrageous  proposal  the  Judge  had  dared  to 
make  to  her. 

"You  say  they  think  you  ought  to  live  under 
the  same  roof  with  this  man  until  the  case  is 
tried?"  Mary  Jane  repeated. 

"They  do!  They  actually  do!  Did  you 
ever  hear  of  such  a  thing?" 

Mary  Jane  lifted  up  her  head  and  laughed. 

177 


178  MARRIED? 

"I'm  glad  somebody  can  see  something  funny 
in  it!  Its  humour  escapes  me!" 

"I  should  think  it  was  an  adventure  after 
your  own  heart,  Marcia." 

"Well,  you're  mistaken." 

"Have  you  met  Mr.  Shawn?" 

"No — and  I  don't  intend  to." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  avoid  that.  After 
all,  it's  his  problem,  too." 

"I'm  not  interested  in  his  problem  and  I  will 
not  be  bothered  with  him.  I  told  the  Judge 
that.  I'm  sick  of  the  whole  silly  business. 
Clarke  is  making  the  most  awful  row  about 
it " 

"Oh,  bother  Clarke!" 

"You're  always  reminding  me  that  I'm  en- 
gaged to  him  and  that  he  has  his  rights." 

"If  you're  married  to  Shawn,  Marcia,  I 
really  think  you  ought  to  disengage  Clarke," 
said  Mary  Jane,  smiling. 

"But  I'm  not.  I'm  not,  I  tell  you!"— 
angrily.  "You  heard  them  say  it  was  a  mere 
formality." 

"Yes,  but  nobody  foresaw  this  law-suit." 

"They  can  all  go  to  the  devil!  I  don't  intend 
to  bother  myself  any  more  about  it.  And  I 
will  not  see  this  Shawn  man!" 


MARRIED?  179 

Clarke  Jessup  followed  the  butler  into  the 
room. 

"How-do,  Marcia?  How-do,  Miss  Paul?"  he 
drawled  in  his  lackadaisical  way. 

"Hello,  Clarke,"  was  Marcia's  greeting. 

"Tea  for  a  tired  business  man?"  he  inquired, 
sinking  into  a  chair  with  a  sigh. 

Mary  Jane's  hostile  eyes  inventoried  him 
from  his  sleek  hair  to  his  dapper  boots.  How 
she  hated  his  propriety — his  meticulous  per- 
fection ! 

"What's  the  good  news?"  he  inquired. 

"None  that  I  know.  I'm  cross  as  a  bear! 
You'd  better  be  amusing,  Clarke." 

"To  be  amusing,  I  fear,  is  not  in  my  line. 
Miss  Paul,  as  one  of  my  harshest  critics,  would 
you  call  me  amusing?"  he  inquired,  his  heavy- 
lidded  eyes  turned  upon  her. 

"Depends  on  what  you  call  amusing,  I  suppose. 
I  get  a  good  deal  of  amusement  out  of  you," 
she  retorted. 

"Ah,  now,  you  see,  Marcia,  Miss  Paul  and 
I  are  getting  on!  We're  beginning  to  amuse 
each  other." 

Marcia  was  obviously  not  listening.  She 
absently  poured  the  tea,  a  frown  on  her  brow, 
and  her  mouth  mutinous. 


180  MARRIED? 

The  butler  appeared  at  the  door,  ushering 
in  a  guest. 

"Mr.  Dennis  Shawn,"  he  announced. 

"I'm  not  at  home,"  replied  Miss  Livingston 
sharply. 

Dennis  advanced  into  the  room  rapidly. 
His  swift  glance  took  in  the  three  people;  he 
walked  to  the  tea  table  and  faced  Marcia,  who 
stared  at  him  for  a  second  in  total  astonishment. 

"Miss  Livingston,  I'm  Dennis  Shawn,"  he 
began. 

"I  do  not  know  any  one  of  that  name,"  she 
replied  insolently. 

He  paid  no  attention  to  that. 

"It  is  important  that  I  should  have  five 
minutes  of  conversation  with  you — in  private." 

"I  know  of  no  reason  why  you  should  intrude 
in  my  house  when  I'm  entertaining  guests,"— 
hotly. 

Clarke  walked  to  Marcia's  side. 

"Would  you  like  to  have  me  handle  this?" 
he  asked  her. 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other. 

"No — I'll  handle  it  myself,"  said  Marcia. 

"I  dislike  being  here  as  much  as  you  dislike 
having  me — but  I  have  something  to  tell  you 
that  you  do  not  know,"  said  Dennis. 


MARRIED!  181 

"I  doubt  it.  The  only  thing  I  want  of  you 
is  to  leave  my  house." 

Mary  Jane  rose. 

"Marcia,  I  beg  of  you,  let  Mr.  Shawn  have 
his  five  minutes.  Mr.  Jessup  and  I  will  wait 
in  the  library." 

"On  the  contrary,  if  this  fellow  has  anything 
to  say  to  Marcia,  I  intend  to  hear  it,"  remarked 
Mr.  Jessup. 

A  faint  smile  appeared  on  Dennis  Shawn's 
face — it  was  so  fleeting  that  Marcia  suspected 
it  was  derisive. 

"Wait  in  some  other  room  until  I  call  you, 
please,"  she  ordered  her  two  guests. 

"Marcia — I  protest  that — — "  began  Jessup. 

"You  go  or  I  will,"  she  interrupted  briefly. 

With  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  Mr.  Jessup 
turned  to  Mary  Jane  Paul. 

Marcia  rose  and  face  Dennis,  who  still  stood 
near  her.  He  towered  above  her,  which  made  her 
feel  at  a  disadvantage,  so  she  moved  away. 

"What  do  you  want?"  she  said  brutally. 

"Judge  Tracey  told  you  what  he  and  those 
two  lawyers  advised?" 

"Yes." 

"You  refused  to  consider  it?" 

"Certainly." 


182  MARRIED? 

"Have  you  considered  the  consequences?" 

"I  don't  care  anything  about  the  conse- 
quences ! " 

"But  you  must,"  he  said  firmly. 

A  sound  issued  from  Marcia's  lips  which 
might  have  been  laughter  or  rage. 

"Why  didn't  you  think  about  the  conse- 
quences before  you  agreed  to  the  crazy  idea?" 
she  taunted  him. 

"I  did." 

"Then  why  did  you  incriminate  yourself? 

"For  reasons  which  you  would  not  under- 
stand." 

"I'm  normally  intelligent.*'* 

"It  was  your  heart,  not  your  head,  I  dis- 
trusted." 

"What  has  my  heart  to  do  with  it?" 

"My  reasons  for  acting  in  your  interests  were 
entirely  due  to  my  admiration  and  affection 
for  Judge  Tracey." 

:'You  consider  that  you  were  acting  in  my 
interests?" 

"I  was  trying  to  save  for  you  a  valuable 
property  which  will  in  no  way  benefit  me." 

"I  can't  see  why  you  were  so  altrustic,  Mr. 
Shawn." 

"I  told  you  that  you  would  not  see." 


MARRIED?  183 

"I'd  rather  lose  the  old  Padrasso  Ranch  and 
Santa  Rosa,  too,  than  be  bothered  about  it  like 
this." 

"I  did  not  come  here  to  listen  to  childishness 
of  that  sort.  I'm  not  in  the  least  concerned 
about  you  or  the  consequences  of  this  ceremony 
we  went  through " 

"No?" 

"The  situation  is  abhorrent  to  me,  but  I'm 
not  considering  myself,  either. " 

"Generous!" 

"My  concern  is  for  Judge  Tracey.  He  evi- 
dently acted  with  only  your  interests  in  view, 
and  apparently  he  has,  thereby,  put  himself 
in  a  very  compromising  position.  This  suit 
will  be  aired  in  every  dirty  sheet  in  the  country, 
and  whether  they  win  or  not,  Judge  Tracey 
will  be  open  to  very  serious  criticism." 

"But  why  didn't  he  think  of  all  this?"  she 
interrupted  him. 

"I  do  not  know.'  My  opinion  is  that  he  let 
his  devotion  to  you  and  your  interests  outweigh 
everything  else." 

She  moved  about  impatiently. 

"Well?"  she  flung  at  him. 

"I  think  it  is  up  to  you  and  me  to  protect 
him  from  these  consequences  as  much  as  we  can. 


184  MARRIED? 

"But  it's  outrageous!  I  can't  do  it.  I'm 
engaged  to  Mr.  Jessup,  in  the  other  room  there. 
He  wouldn't  permit  it  for  a  minute. " 

Dennis  allowed  himself  one  broad  grin  at  this, 
which  undid  all  he  had  done  so  far. 

"I  think  the  thing  has  gone  too  far  now  for 
Mr.  Jessup's  interference,"  he  remarked.  "You 
can't  hide  behind  Mr.  Jessup." 

"I  won't  agree  to  it — that's  settled!" 

"My  suspicion  about  your  heart  seems  to  be 
correct." 

"Good  afternoon,"  she  said. 

"How  many  years  is  it  that  Judge  Tracey 
has  devoted  himself  to  you  and  your  business?" 

No  answer. 

"  He  speaks  of  you  as  if  you  were  his  daughter 
— the  very  apple  of  his  eye.  But  I  suppose 
to  the  kind  of  woman  you  are  that  is  of  no 
consequence.  It  is  preposterous  to  expect  that 
you  should  inconvenience  yourself  for  two  or 
possibly  three  months  in  return  for  a  lifetime 
of  devotion " 

"But  you  don't  know  that  it  will  be  two  or 
three  months.  Cases  have  dragged  on  for 
years!"  she  objected. 

"It  is  to  the  interest  of  the  Great  Western 
to  hurry  this  to  trial. " 


MARRIED?  185 

"Is  it  your  idea  that  you  should  come  here 
to  stay?" — insolently. 

"God  forbid!  You  might  come  to  Santa 
Rosa — you  would  be  comfortable  there — and 
— and  independent." 

"I  won't  go  there— I  hate  it!" 

"We  might  go  to  a  hotel " 

"Here  in  New  York?" 

"Anywhere  you  say,  of  course,  I  ought  to  be 
at  Santa  Rosa — 

"Isn't  there  any  other  way?" —desperately. 

"If  you  can  find  one,  for  heaven's  sake,  do!" 

She  walked  up  and  down — up  and  down — 
her  face  one  ardent  protest. 

"If  we  gave  the  Padrasso  place  to  the  Great 
Western,  would  they  withdraw  the  suit?" 

"It  is  worth  nearly  a  million  dollars  and  its 
possession  might  invalidate  the  whole  of  Santa 
Rosa." 

"I  don't  care  if  it's  worth  everything  I've 
got!" 

He  shot  a  look  of  admiration  at  her. 

"I'll  propose  that  to  the  lawyers,  but  I  doubt 
that  they  would  agree  to  it." 

"I  tell  you,  I  don't  care  about  the  money." 

"Very  good.  If  I  can  induce  them  to  sell 
the  Padrasso  Ranch  to  the  Great  Western, 


186  MARRIED? 

on  agreement  that  they  withdraw  their  suit, 
you  agree  to  the  loss  entailed?" 

"Yes." 

"If  not — the  Judge  must  take  the  conse- 
quences with  the  rest  of  us?" 

She  took  a  few  seconds  again. 

"If  I  had  a  house  party  of  people  at  my  place 
on  Long  Island  and  you  came  to  stay,  would 
you  do  all  you  could  to  get  me  out  of  this  mess?" 

"I  think  you  could  rely  on  me  for  that!" 

His  tone  made  her  look  at  him. 

"I  suppose  you  want  it  over  as  much  as  I  do." 

"More,  if  anything." 

She  flushed  hotly. 

"When  could  you  get  your  house  party 
together?"  he  added. 

"In  a  day  or  two,  I  suppose." 

"This  is  Wednesday — I'll  plan  to  come  on 
Saturday." 

"Do  we — do  I — must  the  others  know  about 
us?" 

"That's  your  affair.  I  should  say  it  was  not 
necessary  to  explain." 

"When  will  you  see  the  lawyers  about  getting 
the  suit  withdrawn?" 

"To-morrow  at  eleven.  Why  don't  you  come 
to  Judge  Tracey's  office  yourself  and  propose  it?" 


MARRIED?  187 

"Oh  I  don't  want  to!"  she  exclaimed. 

He  looked  his  impatience,  nodded,  and  turned 
toward  the  door. 

"At  eleven,  you  said?"  she  repeated. 

"Eleven.     Good  afternoon." 

She  inclined  her  head,  her  irritation  with  him 
expressed  in  every  line  of  her  face  and  figure. 
He  smiled  at  her,  and  went  out. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AA.S  for  poor  Marcia!  She  presented 
herself  at  the  meeting  of  the  lawyers, 
as  Dennis  had  suggested,  and  urged 
them  to  buy  off  the  Great  Western  with  the  Pa- 
drasso  Ranch,  but  they  refused  absolutely.  She 
raged  and  threatened  and  ordered  them  to  obey 
her — but  they  were  four  very  resolute  men.  Mr. 
Stewart  took  her  aside  and  called  attention  to 
her  opportunity  to  stand  by  Judge  Tracey  in  this 
crisis,  and  so  it  was  that  an  angry  Marcia  went 
home  and  summoned  Clarke,  Mary  Jane  Paul,  and 
some  people  named  the  Lathrop  Jenningses  to 
come  and  stay  with  her  at  her  Long  Island  house. 

They  accepted,  although  Mary  Jane  had  to 
come  to  town  every  day. 

"I  wouldn't  miss  it  if  I  had  to  walk  in," 
she  said,  in  accepting. 

"Why?"  casually  from  Marcia  over  the 
telephone. 

"Because  I  want  that  wonderful  man  to 
marry  me,  after  he  is  through  being  married 
to  you,"  was  the  unexpected  reply. 

188 


MARRIED?  189 

"Mary  Jane!  Are  you  going  to  be  a  bore 
about  him,  too?" 

"I  are." 

Marcia  sent  a  curt  note  to  Dennis  announcing 
that  she  expected  him  at  such-and-such  a  train, 
giving  the  station  and  full  directions,  on  Satur- 
day, "according  to  agreement"  she  added. 

She  found  Clarke  not  as  amenable  as  usual. 
It  became  necessary  to  tell  him  the  truth. 
She  finally  convinced  him  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  be  a  member  of  the  party  in  order  to  help 
her  out. 

It  was  a  strangely  assorted  house  party  which 
assembled  in  Marcia's  drawing  room  for  cock- 
tails before  dinner  on  this  Saturday  night. 
She  had  asked  the  Jenningses  because  she 
thought  they  would  disturb  Dennis  Shawn. 
Mrs.  Jennings  was  an  exotic  person  of  utmost 
sophistication,  who  was  now  living  with  her 
third  husband.  It  seemed  probable  that  she 
would  soon  move  on  to  number  four  since 
Lathrop  Jennings  was  both  stupid  and  stingy. 

Mrs.  Jennings  was  clothed  in  the  fewest 
possible  layers  of  tulle — the  skirt  of  her  gown 
hung  French  fashion,  just  below  the  knee. 
The  thinnest  of  silk  stockings  called  attention 
to  her  very  good  legs.  Mary  Jane  was  in  her 


190  MARRIED? 

black  dinner  gown  which  never  varied.  Marcia 
herself  was  very  lovely — very  normal  in  con- 
trast to  Mrs.  Jennings,  very  feminine  in  con- 
trast to  Mary  Jane  Paul. 

The  men  were  equally  differentiated.  Clarke 
was  sleek  and  perfect.  Jennings  was  big,  red, 
and  "beefy,"  with  a  neck  which  bloused  over 
his  collar  in  the  back.  Dennis  hated  dress 
clothes  and  was  rather  awkward  in  them.  But 
while  the  rest  of  them  all  sensed  a  strain  and 
tried  rather  shrilly  to  overcome  it,  it  irritated 
Marcia  to  see  how  at  ease  this  stranger  was, 
how  little  evidence  he  gave  of  the  preposterous 
position  he  occupied  in  this  house. 

She  sat  him  next  to  Mary  Jane  at  dinner, 
and  was  furious  at  herself  for  doing  so  when 
she  saw  how  well  they  hit  it  off,  and  realized 
how  bored  she  was  with  Lathrop  Jennings. 

From  that  first  night  she  found  herself  al- 
ways irritated  with  Dennis  Shawn.  He  was 
too  big,  too  good-looking,  too  much  at  ease,  too 
take-it-for-granted  that  he  was  there.  He 
neither  sought  her  out  nor  avoided  her.  He 
was  merely  a  courteous  acquaintance. 

Sunday  developed  a  situation  which  she  had 
not  planned.  It  became  evident  that  Mrs. 
Jennings  had  eyes  for  no  one  but  Dennis.  She 


MARRIED?  191 

set  her  trap  for  him  most  cleverly.  He  was 
evidently  unaware  of  it.  He  looked  at  her 
and  listened  to  her  with  the  puzzled  air  of  a 
large  Newfoundland  dog  watching  a  trick  fox 
terrier.  Mary  Jane  was  consumed  with  amuse- 
ment, and  Marcia  was  annoyed. 

"Mrs.  Jennings  is  priceless,  Marcia,"  said 
Mary  Jane.  "Where  did  she  come  from?" 

"A  harem,  I  think!  Isn't  she  disgusting.  I 
don't  think  I  can  stand  her." 

"I  suppose  you  asked  her  to  shock  Mr. 
Shawn." 

Marcia  shot  a  glance  at  her  best  friend. 

"She  seems  to  be  quite  his  style,"  she  answered. 

Mary  Jane  laughed. 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  rescue  him  for  a  while. 
We're  going  for  a  tramp." 

She  went  off  whistling  happily  as  Clarke 
came  in. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  Marcia,  why  the  Jennings 
woman?  Isn't  the  mighty  hunter  from  the 
hills  enough,  without  Salome  thrown  in?" 

"Doesn't  she  amuse  you?  I  thought  she 
would.  I  had  her  for  you." 

"Much  obliged.  I'm  a  little  old  for  that 
sort  of  thing." 

"Hence  your  passion  for  an  ingenue,  like  me." 


192  MARRIED? 

"How  long  are  you  going  to  keep  this  mad- 
house open?"  he  inquired. 

"Until  the  Great  Western  case  is  called.  I 
told  you  that." 

"I  hope  I  can  stick  it  out,  old  girl,  but  for 
heaven's  sake  get  some  new  people." 

"Don't  stay  if  it  bores  you!" 

"I  expected  to  be  bored — but  this  has  been  a 
terrible  day,"  he  complained. 

"It's  been  wonderful  for  me!"  she  exclaimed 
sarcastically. 

:'Yes,  but  after  all,  you  brought  it  on  your- 
self." 

"We'll  not  go  into  that  again,  please." 

By  planning  something  to  do  every  minute 
Marcia  kept  things  going  during  that  endless 
week.  Mary  Jane  was  gone  all  day,  so  a  duel 
began  between  Marcia  and  Mrs.  Jennings  over 
Dennis  Shawn.  Mrs.  Jennings  appropriated 
him  completely  for  three  days,  until  Marcia, 
goaded  to  desperation  by  her  boredom  with 
Clarke  and  Jennings,  gave  her  battle.  She 
carried  him  off,  under  the  nose  of  the  enemy, 
one  afternoon,  in  her  little  car,  on  an  ostensible 
errand  to  the  village.  He  accepted  without  any 
show  of  interest. 


MARRIED?  193 

"I  suppose  you're  awfully  bored,  Mr.  Shawn, 
aren't  you?"  she  taunted  him. 

"I  don't  consider  my  feelings  one  way  or  the 
other.  I  am  doing  something  for  Judge  Tracey, 
and  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

''You're  doing  something  for  me,  too,"  she 
reminded  him  boldly. 

"Incidentally." 

"You  wouldn't  bother  about  me  if  it  weren't 
for  the  Judge?" 

"Why  should  I?" 

"I'm  your  employer.  I'm  your  boss!"  she 
said  hotly. 

He  laughed  at  that.  She  drove  about  sixty 
miles  an  hour  for  a  few  minutes. 

"Mrs.  Jennings  seems  to  amuse  you,  Mr. 
Shawn." 

"Yes,  she  does." 

"She  wouldn't  expect  a  simple  ranchman  to 
have  such  sophisticated  taste." 

"She  isn't  to  my  taste" — simply. 

"No?  You  seem  to  spend  most  of  your  time 
with  her." 

"I  can't  escape  her,"  he  said. 

She  laughed  at  that.  He  baffled  her,  this 
big  cool  person,  and  finally  in  a  fit  of  pique  she 
took  him  home. 


194  MARRIED? 

.  As  the  days  went  on,  her  temper  grew  uncer- 
tain, Mrs.  Jennings  was  behaving  very  badly. 
Like  the  little  girl  in  the  poem, 

"She  mocked  'em,  an'  she  shocked  'em. 
And  she  said  she  didn't  care!" 

The  men  all  laughed  at  her,  which  only 
encouraged  her. 

Then  Dennis  annoyed  his  hostess  by  talking 
to  the  servants  as  if  they  were  equals.  He 
took  more  trouble  with  Bates,  the  butler,  and 
Simcox,  the  chauffeur,  than  he  did  with  her. 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  call  the  butler  'Mr. 
Bates,' "  she  said  to  him  bluntly. 

"Why  not?     He  calls  me  Mr.  Shawn." 

"Naturally.     He's  not  your  equal. " 

"Isn't  he?  He's  a  better  butler  than  I'd  be. 
He's  a  pretty  well-posted  man,  I  find  in  talking 
to  him." 

"But  you  ought  not  to  talk  to  him!" 

"Why  not?  He  and  Mr.  Simcox  interest 
me  more  than  Jennings  or  Jessup  do." 

"Haven't  you  any  conception  of  how  to 
treat  servants?" 

"Yes.  My  conception  is  that  it's  ridiculous 
for  two  husky  fellows  like  Bates  and  Simcox 


MARRIED?  195 

to  spend  their  time  waiting  on  such  folks  as  there 
are  in  this  house  now." 

"Oh!"  she  said,  and  it  expressed  all  she  felt. 

The  climax  came  at  dinner  on  Saturday, 
the  end  of  the  week.  Judge  Tracey  had  come 
out  for  the  week-end.  Mrs.  Jennings  took  the 
floor  and  kept  it  against  all  comers. 

"Oh,  Dennis  Shawn,  why  won't  you  open 
your  handsome  mouth  and  tell  us  about  the 
Far  West!"  she  cried  to  him. 

"What  do  you  want  to  know  about  it?"  he 
asked. 

"Are  you  very  savage  out  there?" 

"Very." 

"Do  you  barter  for  wives  or  just  club  them 
on  the  head?" 

"Both." 

"How  did  you  get  yours,  Dennis  Shawn?" 

"By  proxy,"  he  replied  simply. 

An  electric  shock  went  round  the  table. 
Marcia  slowly  turned  a  blazing  gaze  on  Dennis. 

"The  Proxy  Husband!"  cried  Mrs.  Jennings. 
"Are  you  serious?" 

"Oh,  very." 

"  Do  tell  us  about  it !     Why  did  you  do  it  ?  " 

"For  fun!"— satirically. 

"Where  did  the  woman  live?     Was  she  rich? 


196  MARRIED? 

Was  she  pretty?  Had  you  ever  seen  her? 
Oh — do  go  on!" 

"She  lived  all  over  the  world.  She  was  rich. 
I  suppose  you'd  call  her  pretty." 

Marcia's  glass  of  water  went  on  to  the  floor 
with  a  crash. 

"How  stupid  of  me!  Pray  go  on — don't 
let  me  interrupt  your  romance,  Mr.  Shawn." 

"Where  is  she  now?"  from  Mrs.  Jennings. 

"I  don't  know." 

"Haven't  you  ever  lived  with  her?" 

"No." 

"Nor  seen  her?" 

"I  think  it's  fair  to  say  I've  never  really  seen 
her." 

"Then  you  can't  possibly  marry  me?" — 
languishingly. 

"No — sorry." 

"  Most  interesting ! "  commented  Judge  Tracey. 

Marcia  rose. 

:'  You  should  go  in  for  melodrama,  Mr.  Shawn." 

"I  do." 

As  they  all  trailed  out  Clarke  fell  in  step  with 
Dennis. 

"Damned  bad  taste,  I  should  say!" 

"I'm  glad  to  know  you've  got  some  ideas  on 
something,"  replied  Dennis  coolly,  turning  away. 


MARRIED?  197 

"Dennis,  what  ailed  you?"  inquired  the 
Judge  anxiously. 

"She  needs  the  bit,  Judge.  I've  stood  for  a 
good  deal  this  week,  and  to-night  I  punished 
her.  She'd  be  all  right  if  she  had  somebody 
to  give  her  the  lash  now  and  then." 

"Do  you  think  so?     Well,  nobody  ever  has." 

"It  isn't  too  late." 

"May  I  speak  to  you,  Mr.  Shawn?"  carne  an 
icy  voice  at  his  elbow. 

He  smiled,  bowed,  followed  Marcia  into  a  dis- 
tant room. 

"How  dared  you  tell  that  story?"  she  burst 
out  at  him. 

"Why  shouldn't  I?     It  amused  her." 

"Did  you  think  it  would  amuse  me?" 

"I  wasn't  trying  to  amuse  you." 

"It  was  insulting — that's  what  it  was!  I 
don't  intend  to  be  insulted  in  my  own  house, 
not  even  for  Judge  Tracey." 

"When  shall  I  go?" 

"I  suppose  you  would  enjoy  putting  me  in  a 
position  where  I'd  be  forced  to  marry  you!" 

"On  the  contrary,  nothing  would  be  so  dis- 
tressing to  me  as  to  have  to  marry  you.  You 
are  the  last  woman  in  the  world  I'd  wish  to 
marry,  spoiled,  idle,  useless,  untrained,  heartless 


198  MARRIED? 

— oh,  no — what  use  would  you  be  to  a  man  as  a 
wife?" 

For  one  moment  he  thought  she  was  going  to 
strike  him;  then,  with  a  muffled  sound  of  fury, 
she  turned  and  ran  out  of  the  room.  He  stayed 
on,  thinking  over  the  days  ahead.  What  a  fool 
he  was  to  have  got  himself  into  this  scrape! 
Bates  came  in,  looking  very  miserable. 

"Mr.  Shawn,"  he  began  "excuse  me,  sir — 
but  Simcox  and  I  have  got  ugly  orders,  sir." 

"Yes?" 

"We're  to  take  you  to  town,  sir,  in  the  car, 
and  put  you  on  the  Limited  for  Los  Angeles. 
If  you  refuse,  we're  to  use  force,  sir.  Oh,  Mr. 
Shawn,  what  are  we  to  do?" 

"Miss  Livingston  has  ordered  you  to  carry 
me  off?" 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"In  these  clothes?" 

"Simcox  is  packing  you  a  bag  now,  sir." 

Dennis  roared  with  laughter. 

"Ask  Judge  Tracey  to  come  in  here,  will  you? " 

"Yes,  sir.  Oh,  if  you  knew  how  we  hate  to 
have  you  go,  sir!" 

"Much  obliged,  Mr.  Bates.  Don't  you 
worry." 

The  butler  hurried  away  and  Dennis  sat  down 


MARRIED?  199 

and  grinned  and  waited.  Judge  Tracey  came 
at  once. 

"Mr.  Bates,  will  you  get  Miss  Livingston's 
maid  to  pack  her  bag  for  five  days'  travel?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

When  he  had  left  them  Dennis  turned  a 
beaming  face  on  Judge  Tracey. 

"Judge,  I'm  being  kidnapped." 

"What?" 

"Miss  Livingston  is  mad,  Judge,  through 
and  through.  She  has  ordered  the  butler  and 
the  chauffeur  to  take  me  to  town  and  put  me 
on  the  Limited,  by  force,  if  necessary." 

"But  it  is  perfectly  ridiculous" — began  the 
Judge. 

"Don't  waste  breath.  I'm  going  to  take 
her  with  me." 

The  Judge  stared  at  him,  speechless. 

"She's  agreed  to  see  this  through  and  she's 
going  to  see  it  through.  She  ought  to  be  at 
Santa  Rosa,  anyhow 

"But,  Dennis,  my  boy,  it  can't  be  done. 
She'd  make  it  so  unbearable  for  you." 

"I  don't  mind,  I  like  it.  I'm  not  sure  I'm 
not  in  love  with  the  creature." 

"Dennis!"  cried  Judge  Tracey.  "Do  you 
think  she  cares  for  you?" 


200  MARRIED? 

"She's  mainly  busy  hating  me,  but  to-night 
when  I  found  how  angry  I  made  her  I  decided 
she  cared." 

"But  how  can  you  get  her  to  go?" 
"You'll  have  to  do  that.  I'll  start  with  the 
big  car.  Then  you  will  get  a  telegram  from 
me  calling  you  to  Chicago  on  the  10:50  train. 
You  make  a  row — about  no  car — get  her  to 
drive  you  in,  in  her  racer.  If  we  can  get  her  on 
the  train,  I  can  manage  her,"  he  said  thought- 
fully. 

"But  I  may  not  be  able  to  persuade  her. " 
"I  won't  leave  unless  you  arrive.  I'll  go 
to  the  club  for  the  night  and  call  you  in  the 
morning.  You'll  have  to  work  out  the  details 
of  your  part.  You'd  better  pretend  that  you 
have  transportation,  etc.,  all  ready  and  had 
expected  to  go  Monday.  I  will  get  a  stateroom 
on  the  Limited  and  I'll  sit  in  it  until  two  minutes 
before  the  train  leaves.  Simcox  will  keep  out  of 
sight,  but  will  watch  for  you  at  the  train  gate. 
You  persuade  her  to  see  you  aboard.  You 
can  think  of  some  reason  for  her  doing  so. 
Simcox,  when  he  sees  you,  will  send  a  porter  to 
you  with  a  telegram  containing  the  car  number 
and  stateroom.  When  you  get  on  the  train, 
get  rid  of  the  car  porter,  open  the  door,  as  if 


MARRIED?  201 

to  usher  her  in,  then  shut  the  door  quickly  and 
disappear." 

"But,  Dennis,  this  is  more  incriminating  than 
the  marriage!" 

"Dear  Judge,  she  will  live  to  thank  you! 
This  is  the  beginning  of  her  regeneration. 
There's  real  stuff  in  that  girl!  Trust  me  with 
her,  Judge,"  he  added  gently.  "Here  are  my 
captors.  Boys,  I'm  in  your  hands.  I'll  tell 
you  my  plans  on  the  way  to  town.  See  you 
later,  Judge." 

It  was  exactly  two  minutes  before  the  Cali- 
fornia Limited  was  to  leave  that  the  door  to 
"stateroom  A"  opened  to  admit  a  lady  in  motor 
clothes.  The  door  closed  instantly  behind  her 
and  was  locked.  Then  the  lady  looked  into  the 
cool  gaze  of  her  husband  by  proxy,  and  the  train 
moved  out  of  the  station. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MARCIA  did  not  scream  nor  try  the 
door,  nor  attack  Dennis.  She  just 
stood  quietly  and  looked  at  him. 

"Won't  you  sit  down?"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"You  can't  possibly  stand  all  the  way  to 
Los  Angeles." 

"But  I'm  not  going  to  Los  Angeles." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  but  you  are.  By  your 
orders  I  am  going  to  California,  and  as  we 
agreed  that  you  were  to  be  with  me  for  a  few 
months,  it  naturally  follows  that  you  also  are 
going  to  California." 

She  smiled. 

"I  can  ring  for  the  conductor,  stop  the  train, 
and  get  off." 

"You  could  no  doubt,  but  I  shall  not  let  you 
ring." 

"I  can  scream  and  have  him  here  in  three 
minutes." 

"Yes.  It  would  make  spicy  reading  for — 
Jessup,  we'll  say,  and  the  rest  of  your  world, 

202 


MARRIED?  203 

that  you  were  taken  screaming  from  a  Pullman 
stateroom,  occupied  by  a  man  to  whom  you  were 
secretly  married." 

She  sat  down. 

"What  is  it  that  you  propose  to  do?" 

"Take  you  to  the  ranch  for  the  time  we  are 
forced  to  spend  together." 

"Did  Judge  Tracey  lend  himself  to  this  un- 
speakable insolence?" 

"He  did.  I  explained  to  him  that  some  whim 
had  made  you  break  your  word  of  agreement 
to  us,  that  you  had  with  unspeakable  in- 
solence ordered  your  servants  to  put  me  on  a 
train  for  the  West.  I  pointed  out  to  him  that 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  take  you  with 
me." 

"I  should  expect  you  to  be  a  brute — I  scarcely 
thought  Judge  Tracey  would  be!" 

"Possibly  he  is  tired  of  your  lack  of  considera- 
tion for  him,  and  of  your  unreliability.  I  should 
think  he  would  be." 

"I'm  not  interested  in  your  thoughts." 

They  were  sitting  uncomfortably,  she  on  the 
edge  of  the  lower  berth,  he  on  the  long  seat 
opposite.  Presently  she  said: 

"Was  it  all  a  lie  about  Judge  Tracey 's  trip 
to  Chicago?" 


204  MARRIED? 

"Yes.  That  was  my  idea  of  the  best  way  to 
get  you  aboard  this  train." 

"Why  didn't  you  kidnap  me  outright?" 

"Too  crude.  Difficult,  too,  in  New  York, 
at  that  time  of  night." 

"Have  this  berth  put  up.  I'm  not  comfort- 
able," she  ordered. 

"You  had  better  go  to  bed — it  is  a  long, 
tiresome  journey.  I  have  the  section  just  out- 
side your  door,  and  I  shall  sit  up,  myself,  and 
act  as  guard,"  he  added  reassuringly. 

"Stay  or  go;  it  is  all  one  to  me,"  replied 
the  girl. 

"Most  gracious!  I  prefer  to  go.  Here  is 
your  bag,"  he  said,  producing  it. 

"Wonderful!  you  thought  of  everything" — 
sarcastically. 

He  bowed,  as  if  acknowledging  a  compliment. 

"Pleasant  dreams!  I  wish  you  good-night," 
he  remarked.  "By  the  way,  the  porter's  bell 
is  disconnected.  If  you  want  anything,  just 
speak  to  me." 

He  unlocked  the  door  and  left  her. 

Marcia  sat  perfectly  still  for  several  minutes, 
absorbed  in  her  thoughts.  Then  she  shrugged 
her  shoulders,  opened  her  bag,  and  began  to 
get  ready  for  the  night.  Just  before  she  went 


MARRIED?  205 

to  bed,  she  put  out  her  lights,  opened  her  door 
cautiously  a  crack,  and  looked  out  into  the 
car.  Dennis  sat  in  the  seat  facing  her. 

"Want  something?"  he  inquired. 

With  an  exclamation  that  sounded  like  "Damn" 
she  closed  and  locked  her  door. 

At  ten  next  morning  he  knocked. 

"What  is  it?"  she  demanded  crossly. 

"Good  morning" — genially — "what  will  you 
have  for  breakfast?" 

"I  don't  want  any." 

"I  am  forced  to  ask  your  hospitality  while 
I  eat  mine." 

"You'll  not  come  in  here,"  she  replied. 

He  lifted  his  eyebrows  and  smiled.  He  had 
eaten  his  breakfast  at  seven-thirty.  The  morn- 
ing passed.  At  noon  he  repeated  his  question 
about  her  lunch.  He  received  the  same  answer. 
He  had  his  lunch  served  him,  in  his  section, 
and  he  smoked  on  the  platform  hastily  with  his 
ear  on  the  alert  for  any  sound  from  the  prisoner. 
She  fasted  for  dinner,  and  he  began  to  be  anxious. 
However,  he  recalled  tales  of  ranchmen  lost  for 
days  without  food.  She  stuck  it  out  until  noon  of 
the  next  day.  Then  she  admitted  the  porter,  and 
Dennis  followed  on  his  heels  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  She  looked  white  and  big-eyed. 


206  MARRIED? 

"I  hope  you  feel  able  to  join  me  in  a  little 
lunch.  I've  ordered  soup,  broiled  chicken, 
baked  apple,  and  coffee."  » 

She  merely  inclined  her  head. 

The  porter  finished  his  ministrations  and  left 
them.  Dennis  sat  down  opposite  her.  She 
looked  at  him  coolly,  as  one  would  at  a  strange 
interloper.  He  was  so  clear-eyed  and  big  and 
calm.  She  longed  to  hurl  herself  on  him  and 
bite  and  scratch.  That  he  should  force  her  into 
this  position  and  act  as  if  nothing  had  happened 
was  almost  more  than  her  nerves  could  stand. 

"I  hope  you  have  had  a  good  rest,"  he  re- 
turned. 

She  made  no  answer. 

"You  neither  eat  nor  talk.  I've  under- 
estimated your  value  as  a  wife." 

"If  you  force  your  company  upon  me,  I  have 
to  endure  it,  but  I  do  not  have  to  respond  to  your 
tiresome  conversation,"  she  retorted. 

"True — perfectly  true,"  he  admitted. 

The  waiter  arrived  with  the  lunch.  When 
it  was  spread  before  them,  Dennis  served  her, 
in  complete  silence.  He  pantomimed  invita- 
tion, he  gestured  inquiry  in  a  most  annoying 
way.  He  tried  not  to  notice  her  ravenous 
appetite,  as  he  ate  his  speechless  way  through 


MARRIED?  207 

the  meal.  Later  he  offered  her  a  cigarette, 
which  she  refused,  and  he  smoked  in  silence. 
He  called  a  train  boy,  who  presented  a  pile 
of  books  for  her  choice.  She  chose  two,  nodded 
her  thanks,  and  continued  to  stare  out  the 
window.  Dennis  took  one  of  her  books  and 
read.  The  afternoon  passed — a  silent  dinner 
was  consumed,  and  at  ten  he  rose. 

"I've  had  a  fine  time.  You  are  a  most  restful 
companion,"  he  observed.  "Good-night." 

When  she  shut  the  porter  out  she  slammed  the 
door.  Dennis  laughed  out  loud  at  her  childish- 
ness, and  it  was  with  that  hateful  sound  in  her 
ears  that  she  went  to  sleep. 

The  fourth  day  she  broke  the  silence. 

"Has  it  occurred  to  you  that  I  may  need  some 
other  clothes  than  these?" 

"Yes.  I  ordered  a  trunk  sent  to  Los  Angeles 
on  the  train  that  follows  us.  We'll  pick  it 
up  before  we  go  to  the  ranch." 

"A  trunk?     One  trunk?" 

"I  ordered  one  trunk  of  riding  and  sport 
clothes,  with  some  heavy  shoes  and  thick 
sweaters.  That  is  all  you  will  need." 

"I  will  buy  what  I  want  in  Los  Angeles," 
she  remarked. 

"  We  may  stay  there  only  a  few  hours,"  he  said. 


208  MARRIED? 

"I  will  not  leave  Los  Angeles  until  I  buy 
what  I  need,"  she  said  hotly. 

"I've  ordered  what  you  need" — calmly. 

"Oh!" 

She  took  up  a  book  and  ignored  him  for  an 
hour.  Then  she  glanced  up  and  caught  his 
eye. 

"Don't  you  think  it  would  be  more  comfort- 
able, since  we  have  two  or  three  months,  maybe 
longer,  of  uninterrupted  companionship  ahead 
of  us,  to  cut  out  the  hostilities?" 

She  made  no  answer,  just  looked  up  the  page 
of  her  book. 

"It  doesn't  make  any  difference  to  me," 
he  said  cheerfully,  "but  it  seems  to  be  very 
hard  on  your  nerves  and  temper." 

If  she  could  have  seen  the  wire  he  sent  Judge 
Tracey  that  night,  she  might  have  attempted 
his  life.  It  read: 

Will  not  stop  in  Los  Angeles.  Go  direct  to  Santa  Rosa, 
Marcia  well  and  happy.  So  am  I. 

DENNIS  SHAWN. 

As  they  neared  their  destination  Dennis 
increased  his  assiduity  as  a  guard.  He  thought 
Marcia  was  probably  planning  to  escape,  if 
she  could,  when  they  reached  the  city,  where 
any  signs  of  coercion  would  attract  attention. 


MARRIED?  209 

He  decided  not  to  stop  at  all — just  to  take  a 
train  out  to  the  village  and  thus  avoid  danger. 
There  was  an  hour  between  connections,  how- 
ever, so  he  wired  Chuck,  and  then  he  bundled 
his  captive  into  a  taxi  and  motored  her  about 
the  city.  She  showed  only  the  slightest  interest. 

As  they  were  getting  on  to  the  local  train 
the  gods  favoured  Dennis.  Mr.  Maxwell  of 
the  Great  Western  was  getting  off  it. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Maxwell — how  are  you?"  cried 
Dennis.  "Just  back  from  New  York  with  my 
bride.  Mr.  Maxwell,  Mrs.  Shawn." 

Before  Marcia  could  speak  or  Mr.  Maxwell 
could  recover,  Dennis  had  her  in  the  car  and 
out  of  his  sight.  She  turned  her  eyes  upon 
him. 

"If  you  dare  to  do  that  again  I  shall  deny  it!" 

"Very  good — if  you  prefer  to  travel  as  my 
mistress." 

According  to  orders,  Chuck  had  the  Ford 
runabout  sitting  in  front  of  the  station.  Dennis, 
greeted  by  the  station  agent  and  a  few  stragglers, 
helped  Marcia  in,  piled  in  the  bags,  gave  orders 
about  trunks,  and  took  the  driver's  seat. 

"Luxurious  car  you  drive,"  said  Marcia. 

"We  don't  go  in  much  for  luxury  out  here," 
he  answered. 


210  MARRIED? 

It  was  a  very  beautiful  drive  down  the  valley, 
but  Marcia  had  no  eyes  for  it.  After  a  bit  they 
began  to  climb,  the  road  was  rough,  and  the  old 
Ford  jolted  and  bumped  and  rattled.  After  a 
long  time,  with  the  country  growing  wilder 
every  minute,  they  came  to  a  place  where 
Dennis  stopped. 

"This  is  as  far  as  my  car  will  go.  We  have  to 
walk  the  rest  of  the  way." 

They  got  out  and  he  led  the  way  toward  a 
steep  trail. 

"Bring  the  bags,"  she  ordered. 

"The  Chinaman  will  bring  them,"  he  replied. 

Up  and  up  they  went — an  endless  way,  it 
seemed  to  Marcia.  Finally  they  came  out  on  a 
hilltop,  where  a  rude  cabin  was  perched. 

"Here  we  are!"  said  Dennis. 

"But  this  isn't  Santa  Rosa  ranch  house!" 
she  protested. 

"No — this  is  a  lonely  retreat  for  you  and  me," 
he  replied. 

"I  will  not  enter  that  hut!"  she  cried. 

He  went  on  toward  it. 

"Just  as  you  like.  The  nights  are  rather 
cold  and  we  are  exactly  twelve  miles  from  the 
nearest  neighbour." 

He  went  into  the  cabin  and  began  to  build  a  fire. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

SHAWN'S  words  had  their  effect,  and 
Marcia  followed  him  into  the  shack. 
It  was  a  one-room  affair  originally, 
but  heavy  burlap  was  hung  across  one  end  of  it 
to  make  another  room.  The  kitchen  was  a  shed 
at  the  rear.  There  were  four  bunks  about  the 
walls,  and  a  fireplace  at  one  end  of  the  big  room. 
There  had  evidently  been  a  recent  effort  to 
add  to  its  charms.  A  fur  rug  on  the  floor  and  a 
few  chairs  and  a  table  were  in  evidence.  In  the 
improvised  bedchamber,  surrounded  by  the 
burlap,  were  a  washstand,  a  mirror,  and  a  chair. 
A  mattress  and  bedclothes  were  provided  for  the 
bunk.  A  few  nails  had  been  driven  into  the 
walls  for  clothes  hooks. 

But  these  details  entirely  escaped  Marcia's 
eyes.  She  only  saw  a  bare  shack  which  she  was 
apparently  expected  to  occupy  with  this  man 
whom  she  hated. 

"Those  are  your  quarters  over  there,"  he 
said,  indicating  the  burlapped  section. 

"Where  do  you  sleep?" 
211 


MARRIED? 

"In  one  of  those  bunks." 

"If  I  had  known  I  was  coming  to  this  un- 
speakable place  I  would  have  jumped  out  of  the 
train,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  this  isn't  so  bad  when  you  get  used  to 
it,"  he  comforted  her. 

"Does  it  seem  to  you  worth  your  while  to 
go  through  all  this  to  save  Judge  Tracey  some 
possible  embarrassment?" 

He  looked  her  in  the  eyes  directly. 

"Eminently,"  he  said. 

"Do  you  propose  to  hold  me  a  prisoner  until 
that  case  is  tried?" 

"I  intend  to  see  that  for  once  in  your  life  you 
stick  to  an  agreement.  You  brought  the  pris- 
oner part  on  yourself." 

"Do  you  expect  to  sit  here  and  watch  me  for  a 
few  months?" 

"Bless  you,  no — I've  got  too  much  to  do. 
I've  got  a  Chinaman  to  watch  you.  You'll  have 
all  the  liberty  you  can  be  trusted  with.  Toy  is 
a  faithful  Chink,  who  will  follow  at  your  heels. 
He's  not  very  fluent  in  English,  but  he  can  listen 
to  your  troubles  and  improve  his  vocabulary." 

"I  can  kill  my  self!" 

He  glanced  at  her. 

"Yes — I   suppose   you   could,   if  you   cared 


MARRIED?  213 

enough  about  it.  It  never  occurred  to  me  that 
a  Livingston  could  be  a  quitter." 

"Do  you  enjoy  coercing  a  helpless  woman?" 
she  inquired. 

He  was  kneeling  on  the  hearth  coaxing  the 
fire.  He  looked  up  at  her  and  smiled. 

"It  is  hard  to  think  of  you  as  a  helpless  woman. 
But  as  for  coercing  you,  I  don't  mind.  You 
had  a  chance  to  do  this  thing  on  your  own 
terms.  I  agreed  to  do  it  your  way,  although  I 
hated  your  way.  You  broke  faith — now  you're 
going  to  do  it  my  way." 

"You  are  amusing,"  she  said  insolently. 

"You  must  be  glad  of  that,"  he  replied. 
"Now  I  will  have  the  kitchen  fire  going  in 
ten  minutes,  so  you'd  better  get  ready  to  cook 
us  some  supper." 

She  stared  at  him. 

"Cook  supper?  I  don't  intend  to  cook 
supper." 

"All  right.  Get  the  rules  down  now!  Every- 
body works  out  here.  We  don't  have  any 
drones.  Your  job  is  to  keep  the  cabin  clean 
and  cook  the  meals.  I'll  tend  the  fires  and  get 
the  provisions,  and  do  any  heavy  work  that  you 
can't  manage " 

"I  won't  so  much  as  lift  my  hand,"  she  cried. 


214  MARRIED? 

"That's  up  to  you.  If  you  don't  work  you 
don't  eat.  You  tried  fasting  on  the  train,  and 
my  impression  was  you  didn't  care  for  it." 

"I'd  rather  die  than  be  your  servant." 

"Good  Lord,  don't  be  a  fool!  You  do  your 
job  and  I'll  do  mine,  that's  all  there  is  to  it. 
That's  the  way  it  is  in  the  real  world.  That 
false,  artificial  world  you've  lived  in  is  just  a 
show.  Wake  up  and  see  what  fun  life  is  when 
you've  got  a  job." 

He  went  into  the  lean-to  and  she  heard  him 
chopping  kindling  and  whistling  cheerfully. 
She  sat  on  and  contemplated  the  situation. 
She  was  not  going  to  submit,  but  she  had  no 
clear  idea  of  how  to  resist. 

She  went  into  the  burlap  room  and  looked 
about.  She  took  off  her  hat  and  coat  and  hung 
them  up  and  washed  her  face  and  hands  in  the 
tin  wash  bowl  and  sat  down  on  the  kitchen 
chair.  All  was  absolutely  still,  save  for  Dennis's 
preparations  in  the  kitchen.  The  odour  of 
bacon  frying  began  to  permeate  the  air — and 
of  coffee  boiling.  She  was  hungry  and  tired 
and  mad.  She  wanted  to  cry. 

Dennis  watched  for  her  anxiously,  but  she  did 
not  appear,  so  he  ate  his  supper,  washed  the 
dishes,  and  went  to  smoke  before  the  fire. 


MARRIED?  215 

"Would  you  like  a  candle?"  he  called  to  her. 

"No." 

"Better  come  out  here  by  the  fire— it's 
pleasanter.  I  won't  talk  to  you,"  he  added. 

But  she  was  committed  to  war  now  and  she 
wouldn't  give  in.  She  managed  to  make  up 
her  bunk  and  get  into  it.  It  was  hard  and  hate- 
ful and  finally  the  tears  came,  from  sheer  ex- 
haustion. 

Dennis  heard  her  stifled  sobs,  and  shook  his 
head. 

"Poor  little  devil!"  he  muttered  to  himself. 
But  he,  too,  was  committed  to  war. 

She  did  not  stir  in  the  morning  when  he 
got  his  breakfast.  But  before  he  left  the  shack 
he  called  to  her  cheerfully. 

"Good  morning!  Toy  will  be  just  outside 
the  door  if  you  want  him.  If  you  should  want 
to  cook  the  dinner,  he  knows  where  the  supplies 
are  cached.  They  are  all  hid,  but  he  knows 
where.  I'll  be  back  about  twelve  o'clock." 

She  heard  him  speak  to  Toy  and  go  away. 
She  lay  still  and  tried  to  think  of  ways  of  escape; 
She  got  up,  determined  to  see  whether  she  could 
bribe  the  Chinaman. 

When  she  stepped  to  the  door,  he  rose  and 
bowed  ceremoniously.  She  said  a  few  words 


216  MARRIED? 

to  him,  but  he  only  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 
Obviously  he  did  not  understand. 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  the  superb  panorama 
spread  before  her  where  mountains  and  valleys 
lay  in  the  sun  at  her  feet.  The  crisp  air  was 
full  of  tang  and  autumn  smells.  She  wandered 
off  a  little  way  and  sat  down. 

Dennis  came  up  the  trail  on  horseback  at 
twelve.  She  watched  him  come.  He  waved  a 
friendly  hand  at  sight  of  her,  which  she  ignored. 

"Some  day,  isn't  it?"  he  remarked,  when  he 
dismounted  near  her.  She  made  no  reply.  "I 
suppose  you'd  rather  look  at  traffic  cops  on  Fifth 
Avenue.  Are  you  still  on  a  diet  ?  "  he  added. 

As  she  made  no  answer,  he  went  inside, 
prepared  his  meal,  ate  it,  and  departed.  This 
programme  was  repeated  for  three  days.  Then 
he  grew  really  anxious. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  "I  agree  that  you're 
making  a  good  fight  against  doing  what  you 
don't  want  to  do.  Also,  it  takes  a  mighty 
good  sport  to  admit  defeat.  But  you've  got  too 
much  sense  to  make  yourself  sick,  in  order  to 
prove  that  you  aren't  beaten.  If  you  go  on 
starving,  I'll  get  a  doctor  up  here  to  feed  you 
forcibly,  like  they  did  the  suffragettes.  Be- 
lieve me,  you  won't  like  that." 


MARRIED?  217 

"But  you  would!" 

"No,  I  would  not.  I  don't  like  any  of  this 
business.  I'm  just  as  disappointed  as  you  are 
mad,  because  I  thought  you  were  a  real  woman, 
in  spite  of  all  your  silliness.  But  I  know  now 
you're  just  a  doll  with  sawdust  insides." 

"I'm  sure  it  would  never  occur  to  you  that 
your  opinion  of  me  was  of  no  interest." 

"If  you  want  the  doctor  and  the  stomach 
pump,  it's  up  to  you.  I'll  telephone  Los 
Angeles  to-morrow." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  cook,"  she  said. 

"I'll  be  glad  to  show  you.  It's  pretty  simple 
grub  up  here,  so  it's  easy  to  cook." 

The  fourth  day,  so  weak  she  could  hardly 
walk,  Marcia  presented  herself  at  the  kitchen 
door  when  Dennis  was  about  to  prepare  break- 
fast. She  staggered  and  fell  into  his  arms  and 
came  to  later,  lying  on  the  fur  rug  before  the 
fire,  while  he  held  her  head  and  administered 
hot  milk. 

"All  right,"  he  said  comfortingly.  "Have 
to  go  a  little  slow  after  a  fast  like  that." 

She  lay  still,  under  her  blanket,  and  he  went 
on  with  the  breakfast.  But  he  sent  the  China- 
man off  with  a  message  and  he  stayed  at  the 
shack.  Every  two  hours  he  brought  her  warm 


218  MARRIED? 

milk  with  brandy  in  it.  He  talked  along  cheer- 
fully, apparently  not  noticing  that  now  and 
then  the  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  At 
noon  she  had  milk  toast. 

As  the  sun  warmed  up  he  dragged  her  mat- 
tress out  on  to  the  porch  of  the  shack  and 
without  asking  leave  he  carried  her,  fur  rug, 
blanket,  and  all,  and  laid  her  out  in  the  sun. 
He  sat  not  far  off  and  cleaned  a  rifle  with  meticu- 
lous care.  She  watched  him  idly,  too  weak 
to  hate  him.  The  wonder  and  beauty  of  the 
autumn  world  about  them  made  it  seem  madness 
to  wish  to  leave  it.  When  he  came  with  her 
milk  she  glanced  at  him. 

"Why  do  you  bother?"  she  asked. 

"Wouldn't  you  hate  to  leave  that?"  indicating 
the  whole  landscape. 

He  watched  over  her  that  day  and  the  next. 
She  was  able  to  walk  about  the  shack  by  that 
time.  Then  he  introduced  her,  without  com- 
ment, to  the  kitchen  department.  He  taught 
her  to  cook  bacon,  eggs,  and  coffee  first.  The 
first  time  she  accomplished  it  alone,  and  set 
it  on  the  table  before  him,  he  said  cordially: 

"Good  work!" 

She  sat  down  opposite  him  and  ate,  with- 
out reply.  Her  appetite  came  with  returning 


MARRIED?  219 

strength,  and  the  keen  morning  air  made  her 
ravenous. 

Dennis  helped  her  with  the  dinners  until  she 
"got  the  hang  of  it"  as  he  said.  A  chicken  or 
wild  fowl,  potatoes,  and  a  pie  or  flapjacks 
constituted  the  more  elaborate  meals  but  she 
soon  mastered  their  preparation.  She  asked 
him  to  get  her  a  cook  book.  Their  joint  efforts 
in  the  kitchen  had  done  away  with  her  vow  of 
silence,  and  they  talked  impersonally  about  the 
events  of  the  day.  If  he  showed  any  special 
effort  to  be  friendly,  she  gave  him  a  sharp  re- 
minder of  their  drawn  swords. 

Once  he  came  back  for  something  he  had 
forgotten  and  found  her  sweeping  out  the  cabin, 
he  stood  a  minute  packing  his  pipe. 

" You're  a  good  sport!"  he  said  to  her  ad- 
miringly, and  to  her  intense  annoyance  she 
flushed. 

But  the  truth  was  that,  once  having  capitu- 
lated so  far  as  doing  her  share  in  the  shack, 
she  flung  herself  into  her  new  duties  with  relief. 
She  swept  and  cleaned  with  ardour.  When 
the  cook  book  came  she  devoted  herself  to  culi- 
nary experiments,  to  Dennis's  great  amusement. 

"By  Jove,  you're  getting  to  be  a  regular  chef!" 
he  exclaimed  one  night,  over  a  new  dish. 


220  MARRIED? 

True  to  his  word,  she  had  as  much  liberty 
as  she  could  use.  To  be  sure,  Toy  was  always 
a  few  paces  behind  her.  But  she  wandered 
through  the  woods  and  brought  in  great  branches 
to  decorate  the  cabin.  She  grew  strong  and 
rested  and  relaxed.  She  grew  used  to  Dennis's 
comings  and  goings — his  cheerful  talk,  his 
whistling  and  singing.  She  was  so  tired  at 
night  that  the  hard  bunk  was  as  eiderdown. 
One  day  merged  into  the  next,  and  every  day 
she  said  to  herself: 

"To-morrow  I'll  try  to  escape!" 

But  to-morrow  was  always — to-morrow. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WHILE  Dennis  Shawn  was  beginning 
the  belated  discipline  of  Marcia,  up 
in  the  shack,  Judge  Tracey  was  endur- 
ing a  most  anxious  time  in  New  York.  The 
part  of  Providence  is  never  a  comfortable  role, 
as  he  confided  to  Mary  Jane  Paul.  She  was 
the  one  serene  person  among  the  three  intimates 
of  Marcia.  She  assured  the  Judge  that  he 
need  not  worry  at  all — that  Dennis  Shawn  was 
the  man  for  Marcia,  and  that  he  knew  how  to 
manage  her.  Jessup  haunted  Judge  Tracey's 
office.  He  felt  sure  there  was  some  mystery. 
He  could  not  understand  why  Marcia  did  not 
write.  If,  as  the  Judge  said,  she  had  merely 
decided  to  spend  these  necessary  months  of 
waiting  at  Santa  Rosa,  that  was  no  reason  why 
she  should  go  without  saying  good-bye  and 
disappear  without  any  explanation.  He  was 
determined  to  go  to  California  and  investigate. 
It  was  all  the  Judge  could  do  to  hold  him 
back. 

When  the  first  real  letter  arrived  from  Dennis 

221 


222  MARRIED? 

the  Judge  summoned  Mary  Jane  Paul  to  enjoy 
it  with  him : 

DEAR  JUDGE: 

I  have  been  so  busy  with  things  on  the  ranch  and  with 
Miss  Livingston  that  I  have  only  been  able  to  send  you 
telegrams,  and  one  short  note.  But  I  want  you  to  know 
just  how  things  are  out  here.  The  trip  across  country, 
as  I  told  you,  was  pretty  stormy.  I  convinced  her  at 
the  outset  that  if  she  made  a  scene,  every  paper  in  the 
country  would  feature  our  story  on  the  front  page  and 
she'd  have  to  stay  married  to  me  to  live  it  down!  That 
settled  her — she  decided  to  make  the  trip  and  fix  me 
later.  I  was  afraid  of  Los  Angeles,  so  we  came  straight 
through  and  I  took  her  up  to  that  shack  in  the  mountains 
where  you  have  spent  the  night,  no  doubt  when  you  were 
hunting  out  here.  It's  pretty  crude,  but  I  figured  that 
she  would  manage  to  get  away  if  I  took  her  to  the  ranch 
house.  She  didn't  like  it  at  the  shack,  but  I  pointed  out 
to  her  that  I  had  been  willing  to  go  through  this  thing  her 
way  and  that  she  had  broken  faith  with  us,  so  now  she'd 
have  to  do  it  my  way. 

"That  wonderful  man!"  interrupted  Mary 
Jane. 

Then  I  explained  to  her  that  out  here  everybody  had 
to  work.  Her  job  was  to  keep  the  cabin  clean  and  cook. 
You  see,  Judge,  I  figured  that  if  that  girl  was  ever  made 
to  do  something,  she  might  turn  out  all  right.  Well, 
we  had  considerable  ructions.  She  said  she  wouldn't 
do  a  thing  and  I  said  she'd  have  to  work  if  she  intended 


MARRIED?  223 

to  eat.  So  we  had  a  three-day  hunger  strike  that  nearly 
finished  us  both,  but  she  came  round  finally  and  now  she's 
getting  to  be  a  real  good  cook.  She  cleans  up  the  shack 
and  works  around  just  like  anybody.  She  still  keeps  up 
a  show  of  fight,  but  it's  not  so  fierce. 

Judge,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  this  marriage  you 
"sheenanigined"  me  into  is  permanent,  if  I  can  manage  it! 

Williams  is  going  to  Los  Angeles  this  week  to  see  our 
lawyers  about  our  case. 

Give  my  regards  to  Miss  Paul.  She's  the  real  thing. 
A  little  later  you  might  bring  her  out  here. 

Best  wishes  to  yourself, 

Sincerely, 

DENNIS  SHAWN. 

The  two  conspirators  looked  at  each  other  a 
second,  and  then  they  laughed. 

"Marcia  cooking  and  tending  a  shack!"  cried 
Mary  Jane. 

"She'll  never  forgive  me,"  sighed  the  Judge. 

"Judge,  you're  such  a  timorous  Providence! 
I  think  the  whole  thing  is  perfect.  I  prophesy 
your  Dennis  Shawn  will  discover  the  Marcia 
you  and  I  have  believed  in." 

"I  hope  so — I  certainly  hope  so,"  he  said 
earnestly. 

Dennis  had  vouchsafed  not  one  word  of 
explanation  to  Chuck  and  Williams  as  to  his 
reason  for  living  in  the  shack,  or  as  to  his  com- 


224  MARRIED? 

panion.  They  had  carried  out  his  orders  in 
preparing  the  place  for  occupancy  with  much 
curiosity.  They  heard  in  the  village  that 
Dennis  had  brought  a  lady  with  him,  and  they 
had  to  stand  much  interrogation  on  the  point. 
They  saw  him  every  day,  but  he  never  referred 
to  the  subject  at  all. 

It  was  the  end  of  the  second  week  of  Marcia's 
confinement  in  the  shack  that  he  broke  the 
silence. 

"I  suppose  you  fellows  think  it's  a  little  queer 
that  I  haven't  said  anything  about  moving 
up  to  the  shack,  but  I  didn't  know  how  long 
I'd  be  there  or  just  what  kind  of  a  pickle  I  was  in. 
You  see,  I've  got  Miss  Livingston  up  there " 

"No!"  from  Chuck  excitedly. 

So  Dennis  began  at  the  beginning  and  told  the 
whole  story  from  the  time  of  his  arrival  in  New 
York.  The  two  men  sat  spellbound  during  the  tale. 

"You  grabbed  her  and  carried  her  off  to  that 
shack?"  exclaimed  Chuck. 

"Roughly  speaking,  yes,"  smiled  Dennis. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  her  now?" 
inquired  Williams. 

"I'm  going  to  keep  her  up  there  a  little  longer 
and  then  I'm  going  to  bring  her  down  to  the 
ranch  house." 


MARRIED?  225 

"Want  us  to  move  out?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  I'll  give  her  my  room  and 
bunk  in  with  you,  Chuck,  if  you  don't  mind/' 

"Of  course.     Can't  we  come  to  see  her?" 

"No.  She'd  wheedle  you  into  helping  her 
get  away  and  I  don't  intend  she  shall  get  away." 

"Has  she  tried  to  escape?" 

"Not  yet.     But  I'm  prepared  for  anything." 

"Gosh!  This  is  exciting!"  said  Chuck. 
"Do  you  keep  her  chained  up?" 

"She  wanders  around,  with  Toy  to  watch 
her,"  Dennis  answered,  smiling. 

"Say,  if  this  ever  got  into  the  papers 

said  Williams. 

"Yes — well,  it  must  not,"  remarked  Dennis. 
"That's  one  reason  the  shack  is  safer." 

"Nobody  knows  she's  there  but  Toy?" 

"No,  and  Toy  is  short  on  English." 

Williams  was  called  away  and  Dennis  said 
to  Chuck: 

"What's  become  of  Kate?" 

"Luckily  for  you  she's  cleared  out.  She 
asked  me  about  you  all  the  time  at  first,  after 
you  left,  and  then  she  disappeared.  Nobody 
seems  to  know  where  she  went." 

"It's  just  as  well,"  sighed  Dennis,  and  it  was  a 
sigh  of  relief. 


226  MARRIED? 

"Say,  Dennis,  move  your  family  down  as 
soon  as  you  can,  won't  you?  Gee,  it  will  be 
good  to  talk  to  a  regular  girl  again.  Is  she  a 
beauty,  Denny?" 

"Yes,  I  think  she  is." 

"You  lucky  old  Irishman!" 

"She's  got  no  use  for  me,  Chuck.  She  hates 
the  sight  of  me." 

"Honest?" 

"Honest." 

"Well,  of  all  the  damned  things!" 

"Much  obliged,  Chuck,"  laughed  Dennis. 
"I  won't  be  down  to-morrow,"  he  added. 
"Got  some  work  to  do  up  at  the  shack." 

"Here,  wait  a  minute."  Chuck  darted  across 
the  patio  and  came  back  with  a  tiny  fluff-ball 
of  a  kitten.  "Take  this  to  your  prisoner  for 
a  playmate,  old  man." 

Dennis  laughed,  tucked  the  kitten  in  his 
pocket,  and  rode  away.  Marcia  was  standing 
in  the  door  as  he  came  up  the  trail,  and  she 
gave  his  horse  a  lump  of  sugar  before  Dennis 
led  him  away. 

"I  shall  steal  a  horse  and  ride  all  over  that 
valley  down  there  before  I  run  away,"  she  said. 

"You're  going  to  run  away,  are  you?" 

"Certainly." 


MARRIED?  227 

He  smiled  at  her. 

"I  brought  you  a  present,"  he  said,  presenting 
the  white  fluff-ball. 

"Oh — how  cunning!"  she  exclaimed,  and  cud- 
dled it  under  her  chin.  "Much  obliged,"  she 
said,  as  he  moved  away. 

The  sight  of  her  there,  in  the  sunset  at  the 
cabin  door,  with  the  kitten  under  her  chin,  was  a 
pleasant  thing,  thought  Dennis,  as  he  unsaddled 
his  horse. 

The  "present"  was  a  great  success.  After 
supper  she  pursued  a  string,  chased  her  tail, 
and  did  all  the  tricks  peculiar  to  the  cat  family. 
She  made  Marcia  laugh  aloud  once  and  Dennis 
was  grateful  for  that.  He  sat  and  smoked 
and  watched  them  as  they  played  together  on 
the  fur  rug  before  the  fire. 

He  thought  of  the  Marcia  of  the  Long  Island 
house  party  and  smiled.  She  glanced  up  at  the 
moment  and  intercepted  it.  She  frowned. 

"It's  nothing  to  make  you  angry,"  he  de- 
fended himself.  "I  was  just  thinking  how 
sweet  you  looked,  there  on  the  floor,  with  the 
kitten." 

She  swept  up  the  present  and  rose. 

"I  consider  it  impertinent  for  you  to  think 
about  me  at  all!" — haughtily. 


228  MARRIED? 

"Yes?  Well,  I  think  about  you  a  great 
deal,"  he  said  calmly. 

"I'd  like  you  to  remember  that  I  am  here 
under  duress.  That  I  hate  the  place,  and  you. 
I  am  your  enemy,  and  I'll  get  away  the  first 
chance  I  have!" — hotly. 

She  went  into  the  burlap  room  and  nothing 
more  was  seen  of  her  that  night.  Dennis  sat 
on  for  an  hour  or  more  thinking,  smiling  some- 
times. 

The  morning  proved  wonderful  as  wine. 
Dennis  looked  down  into  the  valley  and  made  a 
resolve. 

"Aren't  you  late  to-day?"  Marcia  asked, 
as  he  made  no  move  to  go. 

"If  I  take  you  down  to  explore  that  valley, 
will  you  give  me  your  word  not  to  try  to  run 
away?"  he  asked,  smiling. 

"No.     I'd  run  if  I  got  a  chance." 

He  laughed  at  her  earnestness. 

"I  see  I  shall  have  to  take  a  risk.  I'm 
game.  Toy  has  gone  to  get  you  a  horse." 

"Really?"  She  flushed  with  pleasure  and 
hurried  into  her  room  to  hide  it. 

Presently  he  called  to  her : 

"Miss  Enemy,  we  are  ready  when  you  are!" 

She  came  out  in  riding  breeches  and  boots 


MARRIED? 

and  a  soft  hat.  She  fed  the  horses  sugar,  and 
climbed  to  her  saddle  without  his  help. 

"You  go  ahead,"  she  called. 

"No,  thanks,"  he  smiled.  "I  prefer  to  keep 
an  eye  on  you.  You  go  ahead." 

She  laughed  and  led  the  way.  Slowly  they 
picked  their  way  down  the  mountainside.  An 
autumn  haze  softened  the  distant  range.  The 
air  was  fresh,  even  though  the  sun  felt  hot  on 
the  back. 

"Strike  off  cross-country — never  mind  the 
trails,"  Dennis  called  to  her.  She  obeyed  and 
he  came  along  beside  her.  He  was  at  his  best 
in  the  saddle,  and  she  looked  up  at  him  with 
reluctant  admiration.  He  belonged  here  among 
these  mountains — he  had  in  him  something  of 
their  calm,  their  power.  A  remark  the  Judge  had 
made  to  her  once  came  to  her  mind:  "Put  Clarke 
Jessup  up  against  Dennis  Shawn  and  give  your- 
self a  good  laugh ! "  She  frowned  at  the  memory. 

"I  hoped  we  had  left  the  frown  at  the  cabin," 
he  said. 

"I  suppose  you'll  make  me  go  back  unless  I'm 
cheerful?"  she  inquired. 

"Yes — make  you  go  back,  or  choke  you,  or 
abandon  you  in  the  wilderness.  How  well  you 
know  my  methods!" 


230  MARRIED? 

"Why  not?  I've  had  to  endure  them  for 
nearly  four  weeks." 

"Is  that  all?  It  seems  always  since  that 
wedding." 

"You  flatter  me!  Do  you  know  anything 
more  about  when  the  case  comes  to  trial?" 

"No.  Williams,  one  of  my  assistants,  is 
going  to  Los  Angeles  to-morrow  to  find  out 
what  he  can  from  our  lawyer  there." 

"I'd  like  to  see  him  when  he  comes  back," 
she  said  imperiously. 

He  made  no  answer  to  that.  For  hours  they 
rode  through  the  quiet  beauty.  They  forded 
streams,  climbed  up  and  down  hills,  with  never 
a  sign  of  human  creature  or  of  man's  destructive 
hand.  Dennis  produced  sandwiches  and  choco- 
late from  a  knapsack  for  their  lunch  and  they 
ate  beside  a  brook.  Then  they  headed  for 
home  and  galloped  on  level  stretches  and 
slowly  climbed  the  hills.  It  was  about  sunset 
when  they  struck  the  trail  to  the  cabin.  Toy 
sat  on  guard  as  usual,  with  the  kitten  in  his 
lap. 

"Well,"  said  Marcia,  as  she  dismounted, 
"it  has  been  a  good  day." 

"You  enjoyed  it?"  he  demanded. 

"Yes"— reluctantly. 


MARRIED?  231 

"Am  I  to  understand  by  that  *yes' — 'Thank 
you  so  much,  Dennis,  for  a  lovely  day'?" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  went  in- 
doors and  dropped  down  on  the  rug  with  her 
plaything.  But  its  antics  did  not  altogether 
hold  her  attention.  A  fear  had  suddenly  lifted 
its  head  in  her  mind — the  fear  that  she  was  not 
hating  Dennis  Shawn  as  much  as  she  intended 
to.  She  must  not  let  him  break  down  her  resis- 
tance. She  must  be  on  her  guard.  She  dropped 
her  head  on  her  arm  to  think  about  that — 
but  the  long  day  in  the  open  air  was  not  con- 
ducive to  clear  thought.  The  kitten  curled 
up  against  her  face,  and  its  purr  was  soothing. 

It  was  so  that  Dennis  found  them  when  he 
came  in.  He  stood  looking  down  at  them  for 
several  moments  before  he  laid  his  blanket  over 
her. 

His  lips  moved,  and  he  muttered  something 
that  sounded  suspiciously  like: 

"God  bless  ye,  dear  little  Enemy!" 

But  of  course  he  was  sure  she  was  sleeping 
very  soundly! 


CHAPTER  XX 

THAT  day  spent  together  in  the  open 
marked  a  crisis  in  the  relations  of  Dennis 
and  Marcia.  To  the  man  it  opened  up 
vistas  of  a  future  which  contained  many  such 
days  spent  with  this  fascinating  companion, 
who  was  so  much  the  centre  of  his  thoughts 
and  hopes.  To  Marcia  the  day  held  a  warning. 
She  swept  away  all  the  little  unconscious  intima- 
cies that  had  grown  up  between  them.  She 
became  the  silent,  frowning  Marcia  of  the  early 
days.  Dennis  could  not  understand  it — he 
catechized  himself  to  discover  how  he  had 
offended  her. 

Marcia  fled  from  the  cabin,  in  the  hope  of 
fleeing  her  troubled  thoughts.  She  led  Toy 
a  wild  chase,  far  and  wide.  In  her  riding 
breeches  and  sweater,  with  the  kitten  perched 
on  her  shoulder,  she  tramped  for  miles.  It 
was  on  such  an  expedition  that  she  stood  on  a 
rock  that  jutted  out  from  the  hillside  and  looked 
off  into  the  vastness,  talking  to  the  kitten  as 
was  her  wont. 

232 


MARRIED?  233 

All  at  once  she  saw  a  rider  galloping  below 
her.  At  first  she  thought  it  was  Dennis,  as 
he  was  the  only  man  she  had  ever  seen  about, 
but  a  second  glance  showed  her  that  this  was 
no  such  horseman  as  Dennis.  He  evidently 
saw  her,  outlined  against  the  hill,  for  he  slowed 
his  horse.  Impulsively  she  waved  to  him — 
he  waved  back  and  to  her  surprise  put  his  horse 
straight  up  the  hill  where  she  stood.  Toy 
watched  it,  too.  He  proved  to  be  a  nice,  fresh- 
looking  boy,  who  dismounted  beside  her  with  a 
bow. 

"Good  morning,"  he  said.  "I'm  Chuck 
English.  Fine  day,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes.  Where  do  you  come  from,  Mr.  Eng- 
lish?" 

"Santa  Rosa.  I'm  'Man  Friday'  to  Dennis 
Shawn.  D'ye  mean  to  say  that  old  clam 
hasn't  told  you  about  me?" 

"Not  a  word,"  she  smiled.  "Do  you  know 
who  I  am?" 

"Yes— Mrs.  Shawn." 

She  started. 

"I'm  still  called  Miss  Livingston,"  she  cor- 
rected him.  "Are  you  Western?"  she  inquired. 

"No — fresh  off  Broadway  last  spring — but 
I'm  living  it  down." 


234  MARRIED? 

"Do  you  like  it  out  here?" 

"I  should  say  I  do.  This  is  the  life!  I'm 
almost  as  nutty  about  Santa  Rosa  as  Dennis. 
It's  real  out  here,  Miss  Livingston,  and  the 
men  are  real.  The  only  thing  we  need  is  some 
real  women.  That's  why  I  was  so  anxious  to 
come  see  you,"  he  added. 

"Why  didn't  you?" 

"Well— I— that  is " 

"Mr.  Shawn  forbade  it." 

"He  said:  'A  little  later',"  defended  Chuck. 

She  laughed. 

"Doesn't  anybody  ever  defy  King  Shawn?" 
she  inquired. 

"I  don't  know.  Everybody  loves  him  out 
here;  I  suppose  we  all  want  to  do  things  his 
way.  He's  a  prince,  Miss  Livingston,"  added 
the  boy  enthusiastically. 

"He  seems  to  be  the  whole  royal  family. 
Who  else  lives  at  Santa  Rosa?" 

"Harvey  Williams,  a  good  old  grouch  of  a 
fellow.  He's  secretary  and  treasurer  and  first 
assistant." 

"What  do  you  do?" 

"Oh,  I  just  herd  around  with  Dennis  and 
run  errands." 

"He  told  you  about  me?" 


MARRIED?  235 

"Not  until  a  few  days  ago.  We  were  bu 'sting 
with  curiosity,  but  not  a  word  until  he  was 
ready.  Swore  us  to  secrecy  then.  He'll  skin 
me  for  talking  to  you,  probably,  but  I  thought 
maybe  you  beckoned  a  little  when  you  waved." 

"I  think  I  did.  Come  up  and  see  me  at  the 
cabin.  In  spite  of  your  king's  orders,  I  still 
run  my  own  affairs,"  she  said. 

"Much  obliged — maybe  I  can  manage  it. 
I'm  glad  you're  here,  Miss  Livingston.  See 
you  again." 

He  mounted  and  went  off,  turning  to  wave 
her  a  farewell. 

She  startled  Dennis  at  noon  by  remarking: 

"I  asked  Chuck  English  to  come  and  see  me." 

"Where  did  you  see  Chuck?"  he  demanded. 

"Oh,  off  down  there.  I  don't  remember  the 
street  corner." 

"Hm!" 

"You  needn't  row  him  about  it.  I  waved 
to  him  and  he  thought  I  wanted  him.  Selfish 
of  you  to  keep  such  a  nice  boy  to  yourself." 

"Did  you  ask  him  to  help  you  get  away?" — 
idly. 

"Oh,  no — I  didn't  need  his  help.  I'll  go 
when  I  get  ready." 

"I  hope  we  can  induce  you  to  stay  on  awhile." 


236  MARRIED? 

"You  must  make  it  more  amusing  for  me, 
then.  Mr.  English  and  Mr.  Williams  to  dinner 
now  and  then  might  help  you  out." 

"I  wouldn't  trust  either  of  them  with  you." 

"You  do  think  highly  of  my  charms!" 

"I  do." 

"I  assure  you  your  assistants  are  quite  safe." 

"I  prefer  to  make  up  my  own  mind  on  that 
subject." 

"Are  you  labouring  under  the  delusion  that 
these  Petruchio  manners  of  yours  make  you 
attractive?  Women  have  changed  a  bit  since 
Shakespeare's  time.  I  am  no  Katherine " 

Dennis  smoked  a  bit  before  he  hazarded: 

"I  think  women  are  about  the  same." 

"That,  Mr.  Shawn,  is  the  mistake  that  will 
prove  your  undoing." 

"We'll  see,"  he  said  coolly. 

She  hated  him  most  when  he  was  like  this, 
and  in  her  moods  of  wavering  about  him,  she 
chivvied  him  into  this  manner,  so  she  could  hate 
him  more. 

Into  this  situation  which  Dennis  believed 
he  had  in  hand  stalked  the  unexpected  in  the 
person  of  Kate.  She  arrived  at  the  cabin  one 
afternoon,  gave  Toy  to  understand  that  she 
brought  a  message  from  Shawn,  and  was  ad- 


MARRIED?  237 

mitted  to  the  shack  where  Marcia  was  at  work. 
She  turned  at  Kate's  entrance,  and  they  faced 
each  other  a  second  before  she  spoke.  She 
felt  this  handsome,  foreign-looking  creature  was 
hostile  to  her,  but  she  was  glad  of  a  human 
being  to  speak  to. 

"Do  you  want  to  see  me?"  Marcia  asked. 

"You  marry  Dennis  Shawn?"  Kate  demanded. 

"Y-yes." 

"No  good.     Dennis  Shawn  my  man." 

"Who  are  you?" 

"Kate  my  name." 

"You  say  Dennis  Shawn  is  married  to  you?" 

"Huh — no  priest — but  marry  all  right." 

"You  mean  you  live  with  him — as  his  wife?" 

"Yes,  live  with  me  till  he  go  'way — get  you. 
No  good.  He  come  back  to  me.  Kate  love 
Dennis  Shawn — get  him  back." 

Marcia  thought  quickly. 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"Down  by  quarters  at  Santa  Rosa.  You 
love  Dennis  Shawn?"  inquired  Kate. 

"You  say  you  want  him  back?" 

"Yes."   ' 

"Help  me  get  away  from  here  and  you  can 
have  him!" 

"You  go  'way?" 


238  MARRIED? 

"Yes.  Can  you  get  me  a  horse  and  show  me 
the  way  to  the  village?" 

"Me?    Yes." 

"Could  you  do  it  to-night?" 

Kate  stared  at  her. 

' '  You  go — to-night  ? ' ' — unbelieving. 

"Yes.  You  ride  to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  down 
there" — she  drew  her  to  the  back  door  to  in- 
dicate the  place — "and  have  a  horse  for  me. 
Be  there  at  dark  by  that  tallest  tree.  Wait  till 
I  come.  I'll  give  you  money " 

"Don't  want  money — want  Dennis  Shawn." 

"You  can  have  him — and  welcome!  Now 
you'd  better  go.  He  must  not  know  you've 
been  here." 

"You  fool  give  up  Dennis  Shawn,"  remarked 
Kate  as  she  left. 

Toy  ignored  orders  and  met  Dennis  at  the 
foot  of  the  trail  when  he  came  up.  He  pointed 
to  the  shack  and  said  something  which  Dennis 
finally  understood. 

"Kate!"  he  exclaimed,  and  hurried  on  up 
to  the  shack. 

Marcia  in  riding  breeches  and  a  soft  shirt 
was  bending  over  the  stove  when  he  burst  in. 

"Marcia!"  he  exclaimed. 

She  stood  up  and  stared  at  him. 


MARRIED?  239 

"Are  you  all  right?" 

"Certainly.     Why  not?"— coolly. 

"Did  any  one — was  any  one  here?" 

"Oh,  yes — your  mistress  came  to  call,"  she  re- 
plied, giving  her  attention  to  potatoes  in  the  oven. 

"Damn  her  insolence!  What  did  she  want?" 
he  demanded. 

"  She  was  curious  about  me.     I  don't  wonder." 

A  sort  of  despair  came  over  Dennis's  face. 

"Oh,  you  won't  understand "  he  began. 

She  stood  up  and  faced  him. 

"I  don't  wish  to  understand!  I'm  not  in- 
terested in  your  mistresses." 

She  passed  him  with  food  which  she  put  on 
the  table.  He  followed  her. 

"Please  listen  to  me.     Give  me  a  chance 

She  went  into  her  room  and  left  him.  He 
gave  an  exclamation  of  rage,  then  she  heard 
him  call  Toy  and  give  him  orders.  From 
her  window  she  saw  him  saddle  his  horse  and 
put  him  down  the  trail.  She  smiled.  Then 
she  hurried  to  the  table  and  forced  herself  to 
eat  a  good  meal.  She  called  Toy  in  to  serve 
her.  When  she  finished  she  ordered  him  to 
wash  up.  She  hummed,  and  talked  at  the 
dumb  Chinaman,  waiting  for  dark  to  come  with 
her  moment  to  escape. 


240  MARRIED? 

She  went  in  to  her  room,  put  on  her  thickest 
sweater  under  her  coat,  tucked  the  little  re- 
volver Dennis  had  given  her  into  her  belt. 
She  whistled  loudly  to  throw  Toy  off  the  scent. 
The  kitten  came  mewing  at  her  door  and  she 
kissed  it  good-bye. 

"Make  big  fire,  Toy,"  she  called  to  him. 

He  grunted  acquiescence. 

She  crawled  out  the  window  of  her  room  and 
ran  for  the  woods.  Every  crackling  leaf  and 
twig  terrified  her  lest  it  meant  Toy  in  pursuit. 
She  stumbled  and  scrambled  over  fallen  trees 
and  through  underbrush,  and  down  toward  the 
spot  where  Kate  was  to  be  waiting.  If  she 
should  not  be  there!  If  it  was  all  a  lie  she  had 
told  her  that  afternoon!  No — it  was  true. 
Dennis  had  admitted  it — his  anger  had  con- 
firmed it.  He  had  gone  down  to  settle  with 
Kate,  but  Kate  was  settling  with  him.  It 
choked  her  to  think  that  she  had  almost  come 
to  like  this  man — this  man  whose  taste  in 
women  was  a  handsome  half-breed!  Oh — she 
hated  him  now!  If  she  had  needed  a  flick 
to  her  antagonism  Kate  had  supplied  it.  She 
would  die  now,  rather  than  go  back  to  that 
cabin!  Down  and  down  she  went;  apparently 
Toy  was  not  following  her.  At  the  foot  of  the 


MARRIED?  241 

hill  sat  Kate  on  a  horse,  holding  the  bridle  of 
another. 

"Kate!"  called  Marcia. 

"Yes — here,"  came  the  answer. 

"Good  for  you!"  Marcia  exclaimed,  almost 
sobbing  with  excitement. 

She  mounted  the  horse  as  fast  as  she  could. 

"Let's  go  to  the  village,"  she  said. 

"No,  Dennis  Shawn  go  there — catch  you. 
I  know  place  where  train  stops — no  station. 
Go  there." 

Marcia  peered  at  her  in  the  darkness. 

"Kate,  don't  you  play  tricks  on  me.  You 
put  me  on  train  and  you'll  never  see  me  again, 
but  if  you  don't " 

Kate  laughed. 

"Come  on,"  she  said,  and  led  off  at  a  gallop. 
Marcia  followed  into  the  blackness  of  the 
falling  night — into  the  unknown. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THERE  was  black  fury  in  Dennis's  heart 
as  he  rode  back  to  Santa  Rosa  in  search 
of  Kate.  Fury  at  himself  that  he  had 
succumbed  to  Kate  in  the  first  place,  fury  that 
he  appeared  in  such  a  poor  light  to  Marcia, 
fury  at  Kate  for  telling  her — the  whole  thing 
was  unendurable.  The  memory  of  the  anger 
and  hate  in  Marcia's  eyes  burnt  into  his  mind. 
The  men  were  coming  out  of  the  mess  hall 
down  at  the  quarters.  He  had  never  gone 
deliberately  to  Kate's  cabin  before,  but  he  was 
too  anxious  to  give  her  marching  orders  to  wait 
for  a  more  discreet  visit.  But  the  cabin  was 
empty.  He  took  occasion  to  talk  to  some  of 
the  men,  in  order  to  stay  in  the  neighbourhood 
and  watch  for  her  return.  But  there  were  no 
signs  of  her. 

He  was  just  about  to  mount  and  go  back 
up  the  hill  when  along  the  road  to  the  ranch 
came  a  man  on  the  gallop.  Dennis  waited 
to  see  who  he  was.  At  sight  of  the  manager 
the  man  drew  up. 

242 


MARRIED?  243 

"Fire,"   he   said,    "in   big  forest   No.    6   on 

Padrasso  Ranch." 

"Where  were  you  when  you  saw  it?"  Dennis 

asked. 

"Going  to  village  for  McKim,  at  mills." 

"Did  you  warn  any  one?" 

"No,  came  here  quick  to  tell  you." 

"All    right.     Boys,"    called    Dennis    to    men 

who  had  crowded  around,  "get  out  all  the  horses 

there  are  and  follow.     Bring  axes!     Tell  Mr. 

English  and  Williams  to  come  as  fast  as  they 

can.     Telephone    McKim   for   men    and    axes. 

Sound  the  fire  alarm.     I'll  go  ahead,"  he  cried, 

giving  his  horse  the  spur. 

Meanwhile,  across  the  country,  in  the  darkness, 
the  horses  of  the  two  women  ran.  It  seemed 
a  miracle  to  Marcia  that  they  kept  their  feet 
at  all.  Kate's  plan  was  to  flag  a  train,  at  a 
spot  where  the  engine  slowed  down,  and  to  get 
Marcia  aboard.  A  train  went  through,  she 
calculated,  at  9:20.  That  meant  fast  riding  to 
make  it.  There  was  a  rough  road  cut  through 
the  big  forest  on  the  Padrasso  Ranch,  along 
which  the  logs  were  hauled.  She  decided  to 
cross-cut  by  taking  that  road. 

They  had  exchanged  only  a  few  sentences. 


244  MARRIED? 

"Where  is  Dennis  Shawn?"  Kate  had  de- 
manded. 

"He  went  to  find  you,  I  think." 

"You  told  him?" 

"No.     Toy  must  have  told." 

"He  was  mad?" 

"Yes." 

They  plunged  into  the  forest,  where  the  dark- 
ness was  thick  as  fog. 

:tYou  know  the  way,  Kate?" — anxiously. 

"Yes." 

Marcia  dared  not  look  into  the  dense  black- 
ness on  either  side.  The  great  trees  stood  solid 
as  cliffs  with  the  road  cut  between  them.  Things 
scuttled  and  moved  there,  queer  sounds  came 
from  there,  it  was  terrifying — but  Kate  seemed 
oblivious  and  kept  her  horse  at  a  trot. 

Presently  the  horses  sniffed  and  whinnied 
softly.  Kate's  horse  swerved — but  she  kicked 
him  smartly  and  put  him  ahead. 

"What  is  it?"  Marcia  called  to  her. 

Her  horse  began  to  show  great  nervousness. 
All  at  once  Kate  stopped  and  Marcia  almost 
plunged  into  her. 

"Kate,  are  we  lost?" 

"Smoke,"  was  the  reply. 

The  trees  were  so  tall  that  you  could  not  see 


MARRIED?  245 

above  them,  but  the  smell  grew  closer,  more 
acrid. 

"Turn — go  back!"  ordered  Kate. 

But  before  they  could  do  so,  by  one  of  those 
freaks  of  fire,  flame  leaped  from  some  unseen 
source,  and  as  if  by  magic,  a  tall  tree  just  before 
them  suddenly  flamed  like  a  torch.  With  a 
scream  of  terror  the  ponies  bolted  and  ran. 
Kate's  dashed  off  to  the  left — Marcia's  wheeled, 
ran  for  a  little  on  the  road,  then  as  the  smoke 
followed,  he  left  the  road,  rushed  in  among  the 
trees — and — that  was  all  Marcia  knew. 

Dennis  came  to  the  edge  of  the  forest,  forget- 
ful of  everything  but  this  danger  to  his  trees. 
For  several  moments  he  had  seen  big  puffs 
of  smoke  and  an  occasional  tongue  of  flame. 
The  wind  was  blowing  in  the  direction  to  en- 
danger the  whole  forest  unless  the  men  could 
stop  it  before  it  was  under  way.  He  had  heard 
the  fire  siren  scream  as  he  rode,  so  he  knew  the 
men  were  all  on  the  way  now. 

He  rode  into  the  wood,  alternately  speaking 
comfort  to  his  trembling  horse  and  spurring  him. 
He  was  determined  to  see  just  where  the  danger 
line  lay.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  horse  whinny. 
He  drew  up. 


246  MARRIED? 

"Any  one  there?"  he  called. 

Again  the  horse  cried — it  was  in  among  the 
trees  to  the  right. 

Dennis  dismounted,  tied  his  horse,  took  out 
his  bung-hole  lamp,  and  went  slowly  toward 
the  sound. 

"Where  are  you?"  he  called. 

There  was  a  groan  but  no  answer.  He  went 
on,  feeling  his  way,  and  then  his  light  fell  on  a 
horse  lying  where  he  had  fallen,  and  thrown  to 
one  side,  unconscious,  lay  the  rider.  He  hurried 
to  bend  over  him,  and  then — 

"Marcia!"  he  exclaimed,  "Marcia!" 

He  dropped  down  beside  her  and  began  to 
feel  for  her  heart-beat.  She  groaned  again. 
He  lifted  her  and  put  brandy  to  her  lips — she 
stirred  and  moaned.  He  looked  at  the  horse. 
His  foreleg  was  broken  and  the  poor  thing  was  in 
agony.  He  shot  him  and  turned  to  pick  up 
the  girl.  At  the  sound  of  the  shot  she  had 
stirred  and  cried  out.  He  took  her  up  gently 
and  carried  her  to  the  road.  He  sat  down  there 
to  wait  for  help.  He  could  never  get  her  to  the 
ranch  on  his  horse — but  the  men  would  bring  a 
motor. 

How  had  she  come  there?  Was  she  alone? 
What  had  happened  to  her?  These  questions 


MARRIED?  247 

knocked  at  the  door  of  his  mind,  but  he  did 
not  try  to  answer  them.  The  thing  now  was 
to  get  her  somewhere  and  find  out  how  seriously 
she  was  hurt. 

When  the  men  came  presently,  it  was  Chuck 
who  found  him  there. 

"Dennis!"  he  cried. 

"Help  me  get  her  into  a  motor.  We'll  go 
to  the  Padrasso  Ranch — it's  nearer." 

"Is  she  dead?" 

"No." 

"But  how ?" 

"I  don't  know.  Bring  my  horse — I  can  carry 
her  better  myself." 

They  came  out  into  the  group  of  men  getting 
into  slickers  and  helmets  and  choosing  their  axes. 

"  Clear  that  car  quick,  boys.  There's  been  an 
accident  here,"  ordered  Chuck. 

They  obeyed,  and  the  two  men  got  Marcia 
into  the  back  seat. 

"I'll  go  with  her,  Chuck.  Let  one  of  the 
men  run  the  car.  You  and  Williams  take 
charge  here.  I'll  come  back  as  soon  as  I  can," 
said  Dennis. 

At  the  Padrasso's  they  had  to  arouse  the  old 
servant  who  had  gone  to  bed.  Dennis  despaired 
of  making  her  understand — he  just  carried 


248  MARRIED? 

Marcia  into  the  senorita's  room  and  ordered  the 
maid  to  help  him  get  her  into  bed.  He  tele- 
phoned the  village  doctor  to  come  at  once  and 
to  order  a  nurse  to  follow.  He  had  the  old 
woman  undress  her,  but  she  did  not  regain 
consciousness.  Dennis  sat  beside  her,  his  hand 
on  her  inert  hand,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
aeons  of  time  passed  before  the  doctor  came. 
Time  to  go  over  all  the  past  with  its  folly. 
Why  had  he  blundered  into  this  girl's  life,  to 
bring  her  in  the  end  to  such  disaster?  If  she 
died — what  was  to  become  of  him? 

"Marcia — don't  die,"  he  whispered  to  her. 
"Don't  die  until  I've  proved  how  much  I  love 
you!" 

But  the  white  face  held  no  sign  of  life,  only 
the  faint  breathing  showed  she  lived. 

How  could  she  have  ridden  out  there  in  those 
woods  alone?  Where  was  she  going?  How 
had  she  escaped  Toy?  His  brain  ground  it 
out  over  and  over  again. 

At  last  the  doctor  came.  He  made  an  endless 
examination  it  seemed  to  Dennis,  who  waited 
in  the  next  room.  When  he  could  bear  the 
silence  no  longer  he  went  to  the  door. 

"Seems  to  be  a  concussion.  Must  have 
struck  on  her  head.  There's  a  fractured  arm, 


MARRIED?  249 

and  some  bad  bruises.  I'd  like  to  have  some- 
body else  look  at  her,  Mr.  Shawn." 

"I'll  telephone  Los  Angeles  for  any  one  you 
say.  Will  she  live?"  Dennis  asked  him. 

"I  should  say  she  had  a  strong  constitution, 
hasn't  she?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so." 

"Is  she  some  relation  to  you,  Mr.  Shawn?" 

"She  is  my  wife,"  Dennis  answered. 

"Oh !     So?     I  didn't  know  you  were  married." 

"It  was  a  secret  marriage — suppose  you  call 
the  doctor  you  want,  now.  I'll  stay  with  her." 

The  other  man  left  the  room  and  Dennis  knelt 
beside  her.  There  was  no  change  in  her  face. 

"Marcia — dearest,"  he  pled,  his  face  against 
her  hand. 

When  the  doctor  came  back,  Dennis  said  to 
him: 

"Is  there  anything  on  earth  I  can  do  for  her?" 

"No." 

"Will  you  stay  here  until  I  get  back?" 

"You  have  to  go ?" 

"My  forests  are  on  fire,  I  must  go  and  see 
what  headway  the  men  make,  unless  I  can  be 
of  use  to  her." 

"No — so  long  as  she  lies  like  this,  we  can 
only  watch  and  wait,  Mr.  Shawn." 


250  MARRIED? 

"Then  I  must  go.  I'll  be  back  as  soon  as 
possible.  What  time  can  your  consulting  doctor 
get  here?" 

"There's  a  7:30  out  of  Los  Angeles  in  the 
morning.  I  asked  him  to  take  that." 

"I'll  be  here  when  he  comes." 

Dennis  got  into  the  waiting  car  outside,  where 
the  impatient  driver  sat. 

"Is  it  all  right,  Mr.  Shawn?"  he  inquired. 

"She's  still  unconscious.  Now,  boy,  let's 
make  a  record.  I  must  see  what  they're  doing 
over  there." 

The  smoke  filled  all  the  sky  now,  and  flames 
shot  high  and  pierced  the  black  like  swords. 
The  lilliputians  who  hacked  and  dug  pits  and 
swarmed  on  the  edge  of  the  hungry  monster 
seemed  as  useless,  as  harmless  as  flies.  Dennis 
ran  in  among  them,  counselling,  ordering  this 
or  that.  He  seized  an  axe  himself  and  fell  upon 
a  great  tree  with  frenzy. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

DENNIS  lived  through  the  days  that 
followed  like  a  man  in  purgatory.  The 
fire  ate  its  way  slowly,  surreptitiously, 
or  leapt  like  a  demon.  The  men  worked  night 
and  day — help  was  sent  from  the  village  and 
all  the  surrounding  district.  This  was  a  danger 
to  the  whole  country  round  and  men  rallied 
from  everywhere  to  fight  it. 

In  the  big  silent  bedroom  of  the  old  Senorita 
Padrasso  Marcia  lay,  raving  and  chattering, 
knowing  no  one.  The  specialist  from  Los 
Angeles  pronounced  it  a  concussion.  Two  nurses 
were  installed,  and  he  was  to  come  down  from 
Los  Angeles  every  other  day,  or  at  any  time 
he  was  summoned. 

Dennis  wired  Judge  Tracey  as  follows: 

Marcia  thrown  from  horse,  suffered  concussion  of  the 
brain.  Specialist  and  trained  nurses  in  charge.  Can 
you  and  Miss  Paul  come?  Advise  Jessup  not  to  come  out. 
Marcia  raves  against  him  in  her  delirium.  Doctor 
wants  nothing  to  disturb  her. 

DENNIS  SHAWN. 

251 


252  MARRIED? 

The  Judge  answered: 

Miss  Paul  and  I  leaving  to-day  20th  Century  Limited, 
keep  us  posted  Santa  Fe  Limited  leaving  Chicago  7:30 
p.  M.  Jessup  not  with  us. 

HORACE  TRACEY. 

About  every  two  hours  Dennis  came  to 
Marcia's  beside  hoping  for  some  change.  But 
she  lay  in  a  sort  of  stupor,  or  talked  incessantly. 
She  looked  at  him,  but  without  recognition. 
She  argued  about  her  marriage  to  Jessup,  insist- 
ing it  was  a  good  thing.  Then  she  urged  Clarke 
to  free  her. 

"I  can't  marry  you,  Clarke.  I  can't  do  it," 
she  said  passionately,  over  and  over. 

Then  she  raved  against  Dennis.  She  would 
escape — she  must  get  away. 

"I  hate  him!  I  hate  him.  He  lives  with 
Kate — Kate  is  his  wife " 

"Oh,  Marcia,  listen  to  me.  This  is  Dennis — 
don't  you  know  me?" 

"Kate  is  his  wife!  I  hate  him!"  was  her 
answer. 

It  was  no  use — she  neither  heard  nor  under- 
stood. The  nurses  assured  him  it  meant  noth- 
ing— that  such  a  patient  often  turned  against 
those  dearest  to  them,  but  he  sensed  their 
curiosity  and  disliked  it. 


MARRIED?  253 

Out  in  the  fire-swept  district  he  worked  like  a 
fiend.  Chuck  and  Williams  could  not  induce 
him  to  eat  or  sleep  properly.  He  seemed  de- 
termined to  drive  himself  beyond  the  limit  of 
endurance. 

It  was  a  hollow-eyed,  gaunt  man  who  hurried 
to  greet  the  Judge  and  Miss  Paul  on  their  arrival 
at  the  ranch. 

"Dennis,  my  boy!"  exclaimed  the  Judge. 
"You  look  half  dead!" 

"We've  had  a  terrible  time,  Judge.  Marcia's 
accident  and  this  fire — the  worst  one  we've 
ever  had " 

"How  is  Marcia?"  Mary  Jane  asked  as  she 
took  his  hand. 

"No  change.     She  just  lies  there." 

"How  did  it  happen,  Dennis?  Why  did  you 
bring  her  here?"  the  Judge  inquired. 

"She  ran  away,  Judge.  I  don't  know  how 
she  managed  it,  or  who  helped  her.  I  had  a 
faithful  Chinaman  guarding  her.  He  says  she 
got  out  the  window  of  her  room  and  she  must 
have  had  a  horse  waiting." 

"Where  were  you?" 

"I  had  gone  down  to  Santa  Rosa  on  an  errand, 
about  six-thirty  or  seven  o'clock.  I  warned 
Toy  to  be  watchful  because  she  was  angry 


254  MARRIED? 

at  me.  Down  at  the  ranch  came  the  alarm 
of  fire.  I  dashed  to  the  threatened  forest  and 
in  there,  on  the  very  edge  of  the  burning  timber, 
I  found  a  horse  with  a  broken  leg  and  Marcia, 
unconscious  as  she  is  now.  I  brought  her  here 
because  it  was  nearer  than  our  ranch  house." 

"But  how  on  earth  did  she  get  there?" 
the  Judge  queried. 

"Judge,  I  have  no  more  idea  than  you  have. 
It  may  be  that  she  was  lost  and  got  into  the 
forest  by  mistake.  I  don't  know.  I  only 
know  that  I  hold  myself  responsible  for  it  all. 
I  had  no  right  to  bring  her  here  against  her 
will.  I  love  her,  Judge,  and  if  she  dies  it  will 
be  my  fault." 

"No,  Dennis,  it  will  be  mine,"  the  Judge 
interrupted  him.  "If  anything  happens  to  my 
little  Marcia,  it  will  be  a  terrible  punishment 
to  me." 

"You  both  talk  as  if  she  were  sure  to  die," 
exclaimed  .Mary  Jane.  "Marcia  is  strong — 
she  won't  die.  I'm  glad  you  love  her,  Dennis 
Shawn,"  she  added. 

The  nurse  came  to  say  that  they  could  go  in 
for  a  few  moments,  if  they  liked,  but  they  must 
not  expect  her  to  know  them.  At  sight  of 
the  white,  vacant  face  Judge  Tracey  broke  down 


MARRIED?  255 

and  turned  away.  Mary  Jane  knelt  beside 
the  bed,  her  hand  on  the  girl's  hand. 

"Marcia,  dear — it's  Mary  Jane.  Look  at 
me.  Don't  you  know  me?" 

There  was  no  change  of  expression.  Her 
eyes  were  on  her  friend,  but  they  telegraphed 
no  impression  to  the  brain.  Dennis  fought 
for  composure.  He  was  very  tired  and  he  had 
hoped  much  from  the  coming  of  these,  her 
oldest  friends.  The  nurse  motioned  them  to 
go,  and  they  left  the  room. 

"It  is  very  terrible,"  sobbed  Judge  Tracey. 

"We'll  pull  her  out  of  this — don't  despair, 
either  of  you.  Dennis  Shawn,  you  give  us  the 
responsibility  here  now,  and  you  devote  your- 
self to  the  fire,"  said  Mary  Jane.  "I  shall  un- 
pack and  get  settled  down  and  arrange  with 
the  nurse  for  part  time  with  Marcia.  I  think 
I  may  be  able  to  help  her  come  back." 

"  God  bless  you,"  said  Dennis  warmly.  "Judge, 
I've  got  to  go  back  now.  Do  you  want  to  come 
or  shall  I  send  for  you  later?" 

"I'll  go  with  you.  I  won't  be  gone  very 
long,  Mary  Jane,"  he  added. 

She  saw  them  off  in  Dennis's  motor,  then  she 
set  her  belongings  in  order  and  had  a  long  talk 
with  the  nurse.  The  Los  Angeles  doctor  was 


256  MARRIED? 

expected  later  in  the  day,  the  nurse  reported, 
and  she  could  talk  to  him  about  the  case.  In  the 
meantime,  she  advised  her  not  to  stay  in  the 
patient's  room,  because  people  made  her  restless. 

So  Mary  Jane  went  out  to  wander  about  and 
await  the  doctor.  Off  to  the  west  the  smoke 
smudged  the  skies  and  the  smell  and  taste 
of  it  were  in  the  air.  But  to  the  east  lay  the 
most  beautiful  country  she  had  ever  seen.  She 
was  glad  of  the  fate  that  had  transferred  Marcia 
into  the  midst  of  such  peace  and  beauty.  Even 
if  her  brief  stay  seemed  to  have  been  full  of 
dissatisfaction,  even  if  it  had  come  to  the  pres- 
ent crisis  of  danger,  still  Mary  Jane  believed 
that  with  Dennis  Shawn  to  love  her,  with  such 
a  world  to  live  in,  the  future  still  held  happiness 
for  her  friend. 

The  doctor  came,  made  his  examination, 
and  told  Mary  Jane  his  diagnosis  and  his  plan 
of  treatment.  He  agreed  to  a  brief,  tentative 
effort  on  her  part  to  catch  and  hold  Marcia' s 
attention  by  talking  of  something  entirely 
remote  from  her  present.  She  must  use  her 
intelligence  as  to  how  far  to  go — the  patient 
must  not  be  irritated  or  excited.  He  would 
see  her  again  in  a  couple  of  days  and  decide 
as  to  whether  it  was  a  wise  move. 


MARRIED?  257 

Dennis,  meantime,  had  handed  Judge  Tracey 
over  to  Williams,  while  he,  himself,  pushed 
ahead  to  the  front  line  of  fighters.  As  he  came 
to  them,  one  of  the  men  hurried  to  him. 

"Mr.  Shawn,  we  found  a  body  and  a  horse," 
he  said. 

"Any  identification?  Was  he  burned  beyond 
recognition?" 

"It  was  a  woman,  sir." 

"A  woman!"  exclaimed  Dennis. 

"Yes,  sir.  We  think  it  was  Mexican  Kate. 
We  found  this,  and  I  think  she  wore  it,"  he 
answered,  displaying  a  bracelet.  Dennis  recog- 
nized it  at  once — it  was  a  trinket  he  had  bought 
for  her  in  the  village. 

"Let  me  see  what  you  found,"  he  said. 

The  men  led  him  to  where  the  charred  thing 
lay.  The  conviction  leapt  into  his  mind  that 
Kate  had  been  Marcia's  companion  on  the 
fatal  ride.  She  was  helping  her  to  get  away. 
They  had  planned  it  that  afternoon  when  Kate 
came  to  the  cabin.  It  might  have  been  Marcia 
lying  at  his  feet  so  disfigured  and  hideous! 
He  shuddered  at  the  thought. 

"Let  me  take  your  shovel,"  Dennis  said. 
"I'd  like  to  give  the  poor  thing  decent  burial." 

Together  they  dug  a  grave  and  laid  the  body 


258  MARRIED? 

in  it.  Dennis's  thoughts  were  busy  considering 
the  fate  which  had  so  entangled  these  three  lives. 

The  fire  was  almost  under  control  now.  Acres 
of  charred  ashes  lay  where  the  great  forests 
had  stood.  A  day  shift  and  a  night  shift  of 
men  still  worked  widening  the  stretch  of  felled 
trees — deepening  the  ditches  that  were  dug 
to  stop  the  creeping  monster.  The  first  time 
that  Dennis  felt  the  danger  was  over  he  went 
to  the  Padrasso  Ranch  and  sought  out  Mary 
Jane. 

"Come  for  a  walk,  will  you?  I  want  to  tell 
you  something." 

"Can't  it  wait?  Have  a  bath  and  go  to  bed, 
Dennis." 

"Later.  The  fire's  in  hand  now.  I'll  have 
a  chance  to  sleep.  But  I  must  tell  you  some- 
thing, Mary  Jane,"  he  said  earnestly,  omitting 
her  more  formal  title  as  simply  as  if  it  had  never 
existed. 

"All  right.     Let  me  get  a  sweater,"  she  agreed. 

He  led  her  off  across  country,  scarcely  looking 
where  they  went. 

"It's  about  Marcia,"  he  began.  "I  know 
who  helped  her  and  how  she  ran  away." 

"Yes?" 

"There  was  a  woman  down  at  the  quarters 


MARRIED?  259 

•* 

near    Santa    Rosa    named    Kate.     She    was    a 

Mexican  half-breed  I  think.  I  lived  with  her 
for  a  while  before  Marcia  came." 

She  made  no  comment,  and  after  a  second  he 
went  on. 

"She  disappeared  while  I  was  in  New  York. 
Nobody  knew  where  she  went.  I  thought 
she  was  gone  for  good." 

"Did  you  love  this  woman,  Dennis  Shawn?" 

"No.  She  seemed  to — to  care  for  me.  I 
went  to  her  once  when  I  thought  Marcia's 
marriage  to  Jessup  would  drive  me  away  from 
Santa  Rosa.  I  suppose  you  wouldn't  believe 
how  I  felt  about  leaving  here?" 

"I  think  I  can  understand  what  it  would  mean 
to  you" — simply. 

"I  needed  a  woman — and  Kate  was  there.  I 
don't  make  any  excuses  for  myself — there  are 
none.  I  just  tell  you  facts.  The  day  the  fire 
broke  out,  Kate  turned  up  at  the  cabin  and 
saw  Marcia.  She  told  her  of  our  relations. 
She  may  have  threatened  her.  Evidently  Marcia 
induced  her  to  help  her  get  away." 

:'You  knew  she  was  there?" 

:<Yes.  Toy  told  me — Marcia  admitted  it. 
She  was  very  angry  with  me.  There  were 
times  those  last  few  days,  Mary  Jane,  when  I 


260  MARRIED? 

thought  she  did  not  hate  me  quite  so  much — 

when  I  had  a  little  hope He  broke  off  and 

did  not  finish  it. 

"You  think  they  went  off  together  that  very 
night?" 

"Yes." 

"But  where  was  Kate  taking  her?" 

"That  I  do  not  know.  When  Marcia  would 
not  listen  to  me — when  she  shut  herself  up  in 
her  room — I  started  off  to  find  Kate.  I  was 
half  crazy  with  rage.  I  went  to  her  cabin,  but 
she  was  not  there." 

"But  how  did  you  learn  all  this,  Dennis?" 

"We  found  Kate's  body  and  her  horse,  charred 
almost  beyond  recognition,  in  the  burned  forest." 

"Poor  soul!" 

He  turned  his  face  away  from  her.  "It 
might  have  been  Marcia,"  he  groaned. 

She  laid  her  arm  across  his  shoulders,  and 
walked  on  beside  him  in  silence. 

"I  suppose  Kate  thought  that  with  Marcia 
out  of  the  way,  you  would  come  back  to  her," 
Mary  Jane  suggested.  "It  was  like  Marcia 
to  find  that  out,  and  make  use  of  it." 

Dennis  had  himself  in  hand  now. 

"I  wanted  you  to  know  the  truth,  because 
you  are  her  friend.  When  she  comes  to  herself, 


MARRIED?  261 

maybe  you  might  soften  her  anger  when  she 
remembers ' ' 

"I'll  try,  Dennis,  because  I  am  fond  of  you 
both.  Marcia  is  proud — I've  no  doubt  she 
felt  outraged  by  Kate's  revelation." 

"I  know.  I'm  not  blaming  her — I  only 
blame  myself." 

"I  understand  and  I'll  do  my  best,  if  I  get 
the  chance — but  I  think  you  owe  Marcia  just 
what  you've  told  me,  Dennis." 

"She  wouldn't  listen." 

"Suppose  I  make  it  my  business  to  try  and 
get  her  to  listen?" 

"I  can  never  thank  you,  Mary  Jane,"  he  said 
hoarsely. 

"You  go  to  bed  now,  Dennis,  and  stay  there 
for  forty-eight  hours.  I'll  call  you  if  there  is 
any  change  in  Marcia." 

"Thanks.     I  will.     I'm  all  in." 

He  went  to  his  room  and  Mary  Jane  tiptoed 
in  to  where  Marcia  lay.  The  nurse  whispered 
to  her  and  went  out.  Mary  Jane  sat  down 
beside  the  bed. 

"No,  Clarke,  I  can't  marry  you.  I  don't 
love  you,"  the  toneless  voice  vent  on.  "Where 
are  we  going,  Kate?  I  hate  you,  Dennis." 

"Let's  go  to  the  Opera,  Marcia,"  said  Mary 


MARRIED? 

Jane  decisively.  "They  say  the  Opera  is  one 
of  the  sights  in  Paris.  To-morrow  we  start 
on  that  motor  trip,  so  this  is  our  last  chance." 

Marcia  muttered  a  word  or  so — but  the  flood 
of  talk  was  stilled.  Mary  Jane  monologued 
on  about  the  motor  trip.  She  recalled  incidents 
— she  named  people  they  had  met,  she  laughed 
over  some  jokes  they  had  had  between  them. 
The  wavering  glance  came  to  rest  on  her  face 
and  Marcia  was  quiet.  She  seemed  to  listen 
passively. 

Finally  she  fell  asleep,  and  Mary  Jane  was 
satisfied. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

IT  WAS  two  weeks  later  when  one  day  Mar- 
cia  opened  her  eyes  on  Mary  Jane,  who  sat 
beside  her,  and  said  in  a  normal  voice: 

"Mary  Jane,  where  are  we?" 

"Marcia,  you  know  me?"  exclaimed  her 
friend. 

"Of  course  I  know  you.  Am  I  sick?"  she 
added. 

"You've  been  terribly  ill  for  a  long  time." 

"But  are  we  in  Europe?" 

"No.  We're  at  the  Padrasso  place  on  Santa 
Rosa  Ranch." 

Memory  came  back  in  flood  tide  now. 

"  Dennis  is- 

"He  is  here.  Judge  Tracey  and  I  came  as 
soon  as  he  wired  us  of  your  accident. " 

"Accident?" 

"You  were  thrown  from  your  horse  in  the 
forest,  where  the  fire  began.'1 

Marcia  tried  to  sit  up. 

"Where  is  Kate?"  she  demanded. 

"Poor  soul — she  lost  her  life." 

263 


264  MARRIED? 

"She  did?    Who  found  us?" 

"Dennis  Shawn.  He  carried  you  here.  He 
has  been  nearly  distracted  with  anxiety  over 
you.  He  has  had  to  fight  the  fire  and  all — 
but  you've  had  talk  enough  for  this  morning, 
dear.  Be  quiet  now  and  later  the  Judge  will 
come  in  for  a  little  visit." 

Marcia  fixed  big  eyes  on  Mary  Jane's  face. 

"Did  you  know  that  the  Judge  helped  Dennis 
Shawn  carry  me  on0?" 

"Yes."     She  smiled  tenderly. 

Marcia  turned  away  her  face  and  Mary  Jane 
went  out  to  send  the  nurse  and  tell  the  others 
the  good  news. 

Later,  when  Judge  Tracey  came  to  her  bed- 
side, she  had  no  smile  for  him.  He  bent  over 
and  kissed  her,  and  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes 
when  he  sat  beside  her,  her  hand  in  his. 

"I'm  too  weak  to  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you 
now,"  she  said. 

"  Marcia,  dear,  you  can't  say  anything  that  I 
haven't  said  to  myself.  This  is  the  only  time 
in  my  life  that  I  ever  deliberately  tried  to  ar- 
range other  people's  affairs  for  them,  and  the 
punishment  I  have  suffered  since  your  accident 
ought  to  satisfy  even  you,"  sciid  the  old  man 
humbly. 


MARRIED?  265 

"There's  a  good  deal  to  explain,  Judge,  but  I 
suppose  I  can't  afford  to  lose  you  after  all  these 
years." 

"Marcia,  you're  the  dearest  thing  in  my  life, 
so  you  must  believe  that  anything  I  have  done, 
however  misguided,  was  intended  for  your 
happiness  and  good." 

"Just  now  I'm  glad  of  your  love — but  when 
I'm  well  I  expect  to  be  very  abusive  to  you  for 
your  part  in  all  this." 

Mary  Jane  came  in. 

"Time's  up.  Not  too  much  excitement  the 
first  day.  Have  you  forgiven  him?"  she  added, 
smiling. 

"No.  Just  saved  up  the  moment  of  reckon- 
ing," Marcia  answered. 

Her  two  friends  went  away,  arm  in  arm, 
and  the  nurse  ordered  sleep.  She  asked  the 
nurse  if  Mr.  Shawn  was  staying  in  the  house 
and  she  said  he  was;  that  he  often  sat  hours  by 
her  bedside.  She  offered  to  call  him,  but 
Marcia  protested,  and  turned  her  face  to  the 
wall,  as  if  to  sleep. 

The  day  passed  into  evening.  The  nurse 
went  off  for  something.  Marcia  looked  up, 
thinking  she  stood  over  her,  but  it  was  into 
Dennis  Shawn's  eyes  she  looked. 


266  MARRIED? 

"Marcia!"  he  said.  "Marcia!"  The  word 
was  so  full  of  tenderness  and  appeal  that  she 
looked  away.  She  heard  him  draw  a  chair 
close  to  the  bed.  When  he  spoke  his  voice 
was  near  her  ear. 

:<  You  need  not  answer  me,  or  look  at  me,  dear. 
I  only  ask  you  to  listen,"  he  said.  "I've  gone 
through  hell  since  the  night  I  found  you  in  the 
woods — a  hell  of  regret.  We  found  poor  Kate's 
body — I  know  that  you  started  off  with  her 
because  you  could  no  longer  endure  me.  I 
don't  blame  you.  I  only  want  you  to  know 
that  I  had  not  seen  her  after  I  came  back 
from  the  East.  I  thought  she  had  gone  for 
good." 

She  made  no  gesture  to  indicate  that  she 
listened — her  face  was  turned  away  from  him. 
He  told  her  the  story  of  Kate,  just  as  he  had 
told  it  to  Mary  Jane. 

"There  it  is — ugly  and  sordid.  I  hate  it — 
just  as  I  hate  every  other  mean  thing  I  ever  did 
in  my  life — because  of  you.  I  ought  to  have 
known  that  some  day  you  would  come  and  I 
would  love  you  as  I  do — that  I  would  want 
all  my  life  to  have  been  fit  and  decent  just  for 
your  sake.  Oh,  Marcia!"  he  broke  off.  He 
bent  and  put  his  cheek  against  her  hand,  but 


MARRIED?  267 

she  drew  it  away.  The  look  on  Dennis's  face 
at  that  gesture  of  repulsion  would  have  moved 
her  had  she  seen  it. 

The  Judge  came  in. 

"Ah,  Dennis — I'm  looking  for  you.  Marcia, 
I've  good  news  for  you.  I  have  a  wire  from 
our  attorney  that  the  case  is  called  for  three 
weeks  from  to-day.  We  must  get  you  well 
by  that  time,  and  then  you  and  Dennis  can 
wind  up  your  affairs  and  you  can  go  back  to 
Clarke  and  the  Toy  Theatre  and  the  things  you 
like " 

She  made  no  answer. 

"I  thought  you  would  receive  my  news  with 
joy,  you  two,"  complained  the  wicked  old 
man,  going  out  of  the  room  again. 

"I  suppose  he's  right.  You'll  go  back  and 
forget.  And  I'll  go  somewhere,  as  far  from 
Santa  Rosa  as  I  can  travel,  and  try  to  do  the 
same.  Oh,  didn't  those  days  in  the  cabin  mean 
anything  to  you?" 

"Go  away!"  she  said  to  him  irritably,  at 
the  end  of  her  endurance. 

He  went,  and  only  when  he  reached  the  door 
did  she  turn  her  eyes  toward  him. 

The  next  day,  after  a  restless  night,  Marcia 
was  allowed  paper  and  a  pencil  because  she 


268  MARRIED? 

insisted  upon  it  so  strongly  and  promised  to  go 
to  sleep  if  they  let  her  have  it. 

She  wrote  painfully,  just  a  line  or  two. 

DEAR  CLARKE: 

A  great  many  things  have  happened  to  me.  I  find 
I  cannot  marry  you,  after  all.  I  think  you'll  understand. 

Your  friend, 

MARCIA. 

She  addressed  it  and  gave  it  to  Mary  Jane 
to  mail.  Nothing  was  said  about  its  contents, 
but  Mary  Jane  looked  mightily  pleased  as  she 
carried  it  off. 

They  forced  Marcia  to  endure  a  quiet  day 
with  no  callers.  The  Judge  appeared  at  her 
bedside  early  the  next  day  to  say  that  he  and 
Dennis  were  going  to  Los  Angeles.  He  offered 
to  bring  her  anything  the  town  contained  that 
she  wanted.  There  was  no  sign  of  Dennis 
Shawn  to  say  good-bye. 

Her  strength  came  back  quickly  now,  and 
the  doctor  permitted  her  to  be  up  a  while  each 
day.  When  she  grew  tired  of  the  gloomy 
old  house  Mary  Jane  packed  her  up  and  trans- 
ferred her,  belongings  and  all,  to  Santa  Rosa 
where  they  were  rapturously  received  by  Chuck, 
if  not  by  Williams.  The  boy  amused  Marcia 


MARRIED?  269 

and  helped  greatly  in  her  convalescence.  At 
the  end  of  a  week  the  Judge  came  back,  leaving 
Dennis  in  Los  Angeles.  He  was  delighted 
at  the  improvement  of  their  patient.  He  told 
Mary  Jane  that  they  could  soon  carry  her  back 
to  New  York  with  them. 

Marcia  said  nothing,  but  Mary  Jane  sighed. 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can  ever  stand  New  York 
again  after  Santa  Rosa,"  she  said. 

"  Tut-tut — what  about  the  great  work  of  the 
school?"  he  teased  her. 

"Yes — I  suppose  my  duty  calls,"  she  smiled. 

It  was  high  noon — hot  in  the  sun.  Marcia 
was  tucked  up  in  a  big  chair  in  the  patio.  The 
white  kitten  which  Toy  had  brought  to  her 
played  with  a  rose  on  the  warm  stone  flags. 
Chuck  came  in  from  his  morning  rounds. 

"Hello,  everybody,"  he  called.  "Some  day! 
How's  the  Princess?" 

"Better,  thanks." 

"Any  news  from  Dennis,  Judge?  When 
is  the  old  scout  coming  back?"  asked  Chuck. 

"He  doesn't  say." 

"We  need  him  all  the  time.  You  couldn't  run 
this  place  without  him!  Why  doesn't  he  come 
home  and  attend  to  his  job ! "  complained  the  boy. 

"Dennis  isn't  himself.     He's  far  from  well," 


270  MARRIED? 

said  the  Judge  seriously.  "I'm  urging  him 
to  take  a  long  sea  voyage " 

"Look  here,  Miss  Livingston,  you're  Dennis 
Shawn's  employer — you  order  him  back  from 
Los  Angeles.  We  need  him  right  here." 

The  Judge  and  Mary  Jane  smiled  and  tried 
to  pass  it  off.  Marcia  never  mentioned  Dennis's 
name,  never  spoke  to  either  of  them  about  him 
or  her  plans  and  intentions.  They  were  utterly 
at  sea  as  to  the  relations  of  these  two  people 
so  dear  to  them  both. 

"Here  comes  old  Williams,"  remarked  Chuck. 
"Never  used  to  be  so  prompt  to  lunch  before 
Miss  Paul  came." 

At  this  both  Marcia  and  the  Judge  looked 
at  Mary  Jane,  who  blushed  furiously, 

"You  ridiculous  boy!"  she  said  to  Chuck, 
but  the  germ  of  a  thought  was  planted  in 
Marcia's  mind. 

The  days  passed.  Marcia  went  for  a  walk, 
then  for  a  ride  with  Chuck,  but  still  no  sign  of 
Dennis. 

"I  don't  get  Dennis,"  Chuck  said  on  their 
excursion.  "You  can't  keep  him  in  Los  Angeles 
over  night  usually — he's  always  so  keen  to  get 
back  here.  He  loves  this  place  as  if  it  were  his 
mother." 


MARRIED?  271 

Marcia  was  gazing  off  over  the  hills,  and  he 
went  on: 

"There  never  was  anybody  like  Dennis, 
Miss  Livingston.  I  don't  know  how  girls  feel 
about  men,  but  I  tell  you  men  know  what 
Dennis  is.  Why,  the  way  he  worked — the 
way  he  handled  the  men  up  at  that  fire  was 
simply  great.  We  couldn't  get  him  to  eat  or 
sleep  or  do  anything  but  go  to  see  you — he 
seemed  to  feel  that  every  tree  that  went  was  a 
member  of  his  family." 

"Did  he  find  Kate?" 

"No — some  of  the  men — but  he  identified 
the  body  and  he  buried  it."  Chuck  answered. 
"Gee!  The  night  I  came  on  him  in  the  woods 
with  you  in  his  arms,  and  the  fire  behind  him! 
I'll  never  forget  how  he  looked — as  if  he'd  killed 
you.  He's  never  seemed  the  same  old  Dennis 
since  then.  He's  kind  of  old  and  solemn " 

"Did  he  ever  tell  you  how  I  happened  to  be 
in  the  woods?" 

"Not  he.  He's  a  terrible  clam.  He  never 
said  anything  to  me  about  you,  except  that 
day  he  told  us  you  were  at  the  cabin.  I  said 
he  was  a  lucky  old  Irishman  and  he  looked  at 
me,  kind  of  queer,  and  said  'She's  got  no  use 
for  me,  Chuck.  She  can't  bear  the  sight  of  me' — 


272  MARRIED? 

and  I  knew  by  the  way  he  said  it,  Miss  Livings- 
ton, that  you  were  the  whole  thing  to  Dennis 
Shawn." 

She  was  silent,  and  Chuck  was  abashed. 

"Look  here — you  aren't  cross  with  me  for 
telling  you  this?" 

She  smiled  at  him. 

"No,  Chuck,  I'm  not  cross." 

"I  don't  want  to  butt  in  on  your  affairs,  but 
it  must  mean  something  to  a  woman  to  know 
that  a  man  like  Dennis  Shawn  loves  her,"  he 
said  earnestly. 

That  night  the  Judge  had  a  consultation 
with  Williams  about  some  matters  touching 
the  burned  acres.  They  decided  to  call  Dennis 
and  urge  him  to  come  out  for  a  day.  The 
Judge  talked  to  him  on  the  telephone. 

"He  didn't  want  to  come — said  we  could 
settle  it — he  was  busy  up  there,"  he  reported. 

"Of  all  the  nerve!  Did  you  give  him  the 
devil?"  exclaimed  Chuck. 

"He  said  for  you  to  meet  him  at  the  4:10 
train  to-morrow,"  the  Judge  answered. 

"It  will  be  good  to  see  him!"  said  Mary 
Jane. 

Marcia  said  nothing,  but  the  following  after- 
noon she  gave  Chuck  a  note  to  deliver.  She 


MARRIED?  273 

herself  disappeared  after  lunch.  She  got  on  a 
horse,  took  the  white  kitten  on  her  saddle  horn 
and  went  off  in  the  direction  farthest  removed 
from  the  one  by  which  Dennis  Shawn  would 
arrive  at  Santa  Rosa. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

DENNIS  had  gone  down  into  the  valley 
of  defeat  in  Los  Angeles.  Marcia's 
irritated  "Go  away"  the  night  when 
he  told  her  of  his  love  had  settled  in  his  mind 
forever  any  hope  of  happiness  with  her.  He 
had  welcomed  the  necessity  of  going  away  with 
Judge  Tracey,  and  so  long  as  his  old  friend 
was  with  him,  and  they  were  busy,  he  kept 
Marcia  out  of  his  mind  The  two  men  never 
spoke  of  the  thing  that  was  uppermost  in  their 
thoughts  until  the  day  the  Judge  was  going 
back  to  the  ranch. 

"Judge,  I  think  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  I 

can't  stay  on  at  Santa  Rosa,"   Dennis  began. 

"That  is  the  worst  news  I  could  hear,  Dennis." 

"I'm  sorry.     You  are  the  best  friend  I  have 

in  the  world,  Judge,  but  I've  made  a  mess  of 

things,   and   Santa  Rosa  would  be  a  haunted 

place  for  me  now." 

"You  mean  that  you  love  Marcia?" 
"Yes — and  that  she  hates  me." 
"Are  you  sure,  Dennis?" — anxiously. 

274 


MARRIED?  275 

"  Perfectly.  I  told  her  I  loved  Jier,  that  first  day 
she  was  conscious,  and  all  she  said  was  *  go  away ! ' ' 

"She  was  a  sick  girl  then,  Dennis." 

"Not  too  sick  to  know  her  mind.  No,  Judge, 
she  hates  me " 

"Dennis,  I've  made  a  mess  of  things,  too," 
exclaimed  the  Judge  with  feeling. 

"Did  you  want  her  to  care  for  me,  Judge?" 
Dennis  asked  in  surprise. 

"I  wanted  it  so  much  that  I  risked  your  friend- 
ship and  hers,  my  own  peace  of  mind "  He 

stopped,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"Judge,  what  do  you  mean?"  asked  Dennis 
gently. 

The  older  man  rose  and  laid  his  hands  on 
Dennis's  shoulders. 

"I  wanted  you  two  to  marry  so  much  that  I 
manipulated  this  mad  experiment." 

He  explained  from  beginning  to  end,  and 
Dennis  listened  in  astonishment. 

"Dennis,  if  you  tell  me  that  I  have  interfered 
with  your  life  in  the  most  damnably  unwar- 
ranted way,  you  will  be  right!"  he  concluded. 

Dennis  paced  up  and  down,  frowning. 

"Judge,"  he  said  finally,  "you  took  a  big 
chance  on  this  thing,  and  it's  turned  out  pretty 
bad  for  me,  but  I  can  see  how  you  were  tempted 


276  MARRIED? 

to  do  it,  and  I  know  how  much  you  love  that 
girl — and  me,  too,  sir.  I  wish  for  your  sake 
it  had  had  a  happy  ending." 

"You  wouldn't  come  down  with  me,  Dennis, 
and  try  once  more,  now  that  she's  well?" 

"It's  no  use,  Judge.  I  have  some  pride,  you 
know. " 

The  Judge's  arguments  and  entreaties  failed 
to  move  Dennis,  and  in  the  end,  he  left  him  in 
Los  Angeles.  Dennis  was  to  decide  about  his 
future  and  write  the  Judge  his  decision.  He 
would  make  no  move  until  after  the  case  was 
tried  and  the  marriage  annulled. 

"If  we  needed  your  advice  very  much,  at 
Santa  Rosa,  would  you  come  down  for  a  day?" 
was  the  Judge 's  parting  question. 

Dennis  nodded  as  the  train  pulled  out. 

It  was  to  make  good  this  promise  that  he 
reluctantly  stepped  on  to  the  4:10  to  Santa 
Rosa  on  an  afternoon  two  weeks  later.  All 
the  way  he  steeled  himself  to  meet  Marcia.  At 
the  station  Chuck's  greeting  brought  a  lump 
to  his  throat.  They  started  off  on  the  well- 
known  road  and  Dennis  eyes  were  wet  with  the 
thought  of  leaving  this  country  he  loved. 

Suddenly  Chuck  took  something  from  his 
pocket  and  thrust  it  at  him. 


MARRIED?  277 

"By  the  way — she  told  me  to  give  you  this." 
Dennis  opened  it — the  first  line  he  had  ever 
had  from  Marcia. 

Will  you  come  up  to  the  cabin? 

MARCIA. 

"Is  she — is  she  well?"  he  asked  Chuck. 

"Perfectly.     Lovelier  than  ever,  too." 

"Let  me  off  at  the  stables,  Chuck.  Tell 
the  Judge  I  had  something  to  attend  to — I'll 
be  at  the  ranch  a  little  later." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  Chuck,  smiling. 

Meantime  Marcia  had  climbed  the  trail  to 
the  cabin.  The  door  was  open  and  Toy  was 
sweeping  vigorously.  He  stopped  at  sight  of 
her,  made  his  low  bow,  and  went  on  with  his 
work.  The  fire  was  laid,  the  room  in  order. 
The  kitchen  department  was  spotless,  the  sup- 
plies just  as  she  had  ordered  them. 

She  went  out  to  the  woods  beyond  and  carried 
back  great  branches  of  green  to  make  the  living 
room  festive.  Toy  finished  his  cleaning  and 
disappeared  into  the  shack  at  the  back.  Marcia 
sat  down  with  the  kitten  in  her  lap  to  wait  and 
think.  She  sent  her  thoughts  back  over  every 
step  of  her  association  with  Dennis  Shawn  from 
that  first  day,  which  seemed  so  remote  now, 
when  he  strode  into  her  drawing  room  and  de- 


278  MARRIED? 

manded  audience  with  her.  She  remembered 
how  he  seemed  to  fill  the  room  with  his  presence, 
how  he  dwarfed  Clarke  Jessup — how  he  had 
swept  Mary  Jane  and  Clarke  out  of  the  room 
and  taken  possession  of  her  attention.  He 
had  never  lost  it  since.  He  had  dominated 
her  as  no  other  human  being  had  ever  done, 
he  had  made  her  work  with  her  hands,  he  had 
forced  her  to  consider  the  rights  of  another 
person.  She  looked  back  at  her  days  in  New 
York,  those  restless,  seeking  days.  How  empty 
they  had  been  beside  these  days  in  the  cabin 

filled  with  simple  duties  and  with But  here 

stopped.  The  fear  that  teased  her  was  that 
she  might  grow  tired  of  life  out  here — that 
she  might  disappoint  Dennis,  and  turn  out  to 
be  a  "doll  with  sawdust  insides"  as  he  had  once 
said  so  bitterly. 

"Present,"  she  said,  addressing  the  cat,  "we 
can  take  only  one  step  at  a  time,  and  just  now 
I  know  that  if  I  had  to  leave  Santa  Rosa  and — 
and  all,  I  should  die!" 

She  heard  something  that  made  her  spring 
up,  colour  flooding  her  cheeks,  heart  pounding. 
She  tucked  the  kitten  under  her  chin  and  went 
to  stand  in  the  door.  It  was  so  that  Dennis 
saw  her  as  his  horse  climbed  the  trail. 


MARRIED?  279 

"Dennis,"  she  said  faintly,  as  he  dismounted 
beside  her,  "Dennis!" 

"Marcia?"  he  said,  questioning. 

He  dropped  the  bridle  over  his  pony's  head, 
and  he  wandered  away  seeking  green  grass. 

Dennis  took  two  steps  to  Marcia's  side  and 
looked  into  her  eyes.  She  looked  back  at  him 
and  smiled. 

"Dennis — welcome  home!"  she  said  softly. 

He  swept  her  into  his  arms  with  such  passion 
that  the  white  kitten  was  brushed  aside  and  ran 
for  its  life. 

"Marcia — my  love!"  breathed  Dennis. 

He  kissed  her  lips,  her  eyes,  her  hair,  saying 
her  name  over  and  over,  like  a  prayer.  She 
clung  to  him,  and  tasted  happiness  that  was 
almost  pain. 

"Marcia,"  he  said  at  last,  "is  it  a  miracle? 
Am  I  dreaming  this?" 

"No,  dearest,  it's  true — it's  the  truest  thing 
that  has  ever  come  to  either  of  us.  Oh,  Dennis, 
Dennis,  how  near  we  came  to  missing  this." 

"Don't!"  he  shuddered.  "Say  you  love  me, 
Marcia?" 

"Dennis,  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart,  my 
lover." 

After  a  while  they  went  into  the  cabin  and 


280  MARRIED? 

he  knelt  to  light  the  fire.  She  blew  him  a  kiss 
and  started  for  the  kitchen. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  he  cried. 

"To  cook  the  supper,  my  liege  lord." 

"Oh,  no— let  Toy  do  it.     Don't  go  away!" 

"My  dear,"  she  quoted  solemnly,  "come  out 
of  the  sham  world  in  which  you  have  been  living ! 
In  this  real  world  one  must  work  to  eat " 

But  the  rest  of  it  was  quite  lost,  because  her 
face  was  buried  in  the  front  of  his  coat,  and 
she  felt  his  laughter  beneath  her  cheek. 

"O,  little  spalpeen!"  he  said  to  her.  "And 
are  ye  glad,  darlin',  that  I  brought  ye  out  of 
your  sham  world  into  the  real  one?" 

"Glad?    Oh,  Dennis!" 

She  drew  his  head  down  to  her  and  kissed 
him  long  on  the  mouth.  He  picked  her  up  in 
his  arms  and  subsided  into  a  chair  before  the 
fire,  holding  her  like  a  baby. 

"But,  the  supper — dearest " 

"You'll  get  no  supper  this  night!"  he  cried, 
and  started  for  Toy. 

"Get  supper,  Toy,"  he  ordered. 

The  Chinaman  grinned,  bowed,  disappeared. 

"Now,"  said  Marcia  with  a  sigh,  her  head  on 
his  breast,  "now  let's  begin  at  the  very  beginning 
and  talk  it  all  over  up  to  now." 


MARRIED?  281 

"Now  satisfies  me!"  Dennis  said,  his  cheek 
against  her  hair. 

"Did  you  love  me  that  very  first  day  you 
spoiled  my  tea  party,  Dennis?" 

"Shure,  darlin'.  I  loved  ye  before  ye  were 
bora!" 

"That's  when  I  began  to  love  you!" 

He  held  her  away  from  him  and  gazed  at  her 
with  astonishment. 

"What's  that?"  said  he. 

"I  did." 

"And  all  this  in-between?" 

"I  didn't  know  I  was  loving  you  then,  but 
of  course  I  was/* 

He  drew  her  back  close. 

"Well,  I  won't  quarrel  with  that,  wow,"  he  said. 

"The  Judge  and  Mary  Jane  will  be  so  glad," 
Marcia  remarked. 

Dennis  started. 

"The  Judge!  Great  Scott,  I  told  Chuck 
I'd  be  along  in  a  little  while,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Never  mind,  dear.     I  left  the  Judge  a  note." 

"What  did  ye  tell  him?" 

"I  said  I  had  gone  away  with  my  husband  and 
we  would  not  be  back  to-night." 

"Oh,  Marcia — my  Marcia — Marcia  Shawn!" 
murmured  Dennis,  with  his  lips  upon  hers. 


282  MARRIED? 

"Dennis,"  she  whispered,  "it  sounds  like  a 
song." 

"It  is  a  song,  beloved,  a  man's  song  to  his 
Tvoman,  a  song  of  Me " 

"A  woman's  song  to  her  man — a  song  of 
love!"  she  added. 

So  life  began  for  these  two  upon  their  hilltop 
of  joy! 


THE  END 


THE   COUNTRY   LIFE   PRESS 
GARDEN   CITY,   N.   Y. 


000  125  352     5 


